Tranquility
by Noacat
Summary: Nightmares of the future, Aeris dreams...trying to keep her head above water. Warning: Strong language. Prequel. COMPLETE.
1. Beginning Dreams End

_Tranquility, from within and without. Things had become a clear spiral pinpoint of light that illuminated her final purpose on this earth. She'd made peace with all the things she'd left undone in this life. Cherished all the things she'd managed to do as fate's clocked ticked and her final bow came closer and closer. Her only regret in life was that she had never truly loved someone, never had her loved returned in the same fashion. None of it mattered in the end. She would die, sacrifice herself to save the planet. The words were so easy to utter. The thought so simple and neat. But it wasn't. She didn't want to die, though she had accepted its inevitability. In her heart of hearts though, she wished that there was a different end to her story. An alternate path for her to take, a solution that she'd not yet discovered, anything but her martyrdom. _

_She opened her eyes, which were glassy with tears. God, she wanted to cry, to let loose a scream of rage at the unfairness of it all. Take it away.....just take it all away.....it's too big for me.....she begged the planet, hands clasped, Why does it have to be me? Why? I don't want to die.....please.... The planet hummed back to her, sending her not words but feelings. It sent her images and thoughts of all the beings that crawled over its surface. You aren't a normal girl, it hummed, you are my shepherd, my last caretaker and the only one who can heal me. You must do what is asked of you, else all those who live upon me will suffer.  It makes me weep to think that you must do this, but it is the only way. She nodded, understanding and accepting her role in this play. Fear was set aside, and she prayed. Prayed for absolution, to purge the great sin from her world, and for the healing of an old wound. _

_A crash came from above, glass shattering as something large broke through the ceiling of the temple. She could feel the glass remnants hitting her shoulders and head. He had come, the man who would murder her. The girl opened her eyes, gazing up lovingly at her friends who could do nothing but gape in horror. She felt the wind as he swooped behind her, his shadow covering her as he raised his sword high. God.....God, please let it be quick.....I'm so scared....I don't want to die.....The sharp tip pierced her flesh, gods above it hurt so much. She could feel the pressure of the blade as it entered the small of her back, the steel pushed through exiting through her midsection just above her breast. How easily it slid through her, as if she where no more solid than water. Her thoughts were overcome by the pain, it was all she could see, all she could feel. It was hard for her to breathe, the strike had punctured at least one lung if not both. She didn't let it show, somehow the planet gave her enough strength to choke back her own pain. She wouldn't scream, wouldn't cry....not in front of him......That would bring him too much pleasure, he wanted her to....She intended to deny him his moment of triumph. She wanted him to see her face painless and strong, she wanted it to haunt him. He was the weak one, not her. _

_The world became a cacophony of sound and blurring lights. Whatever force that had held her companions in silent, horrified limbo released its hold on them. They shouted, someone screamed, the voices were too loud and she had found it too hard to focus on comprehending the words. She could feel his boot on her back as he pushed her off his sword. More pain shot through her body, but it only seemed to serve as an equilibrium. Sliding off the weapon, she slumped and was only saved from hitting hard ground by the quick rescue of one of her friends. His arms were so warm. It'd be okay if she could just die here. In the arms of a friend, though they'd never gotten close enough to be anything but. It didn't matter to her though, he was a friend....a good friend. One regret gone. She had friends at last. No longer was she alone in the world. They might not have understood her, but at least they loved her and accepted her for who she was. _

_She looked up at him, it was so hard to see. Her other friends had gathered around him, she could feel their presence all around her. The warmth of the love and care for her radiating outwards, beyond the confines of her mortal body. Everything was tainted black...she could feel her life ebb away, her consciousness slipping from her body and merging with creation. Sweet and warm....suddenly pierced again, by those cold blue-green eyes.....the cruel sound of his laughter dying away until all was darkness. _

Aeris woke with a start, tears streaming down her delicate face. _It was that damn dream again_. _God how I hate it_. More precisely, it was a premonition. She knew it. A vision of her future and her eventual death. A reoccurring nightmare that had retarded her sleep for years. Aeris wiped at her eyes. Today was her birthday, she turned sixteen if you counted by human years. But she wasn't human, she was Cetra. An ancient race, long forgotten in the annuls of time. Shepherds of the planet, guardians of the life stream. In the years of her people she was quite old, her soul having lived for thousands of years. Born into this shell to serve one purpose. As the last of her kind she had a sacred duty to perform. To rid the planet of a mistake her people had made before this new race had crawled from their caves. 

The crisis from the sky, it had been her people's down fall. Jenova was the name the Cetra had given it. They had offered it friendship, showed it what they had learned and it had used that knowledge to it's own perverse end. Driving her people mad, and nearly destroying all existence. Jenova was a virus, a defective entity who envied the light. The Cetra were the source of that light, givers of life. Jenova gave only death. It had taken all the power of the remaining Cetra to stop Jenova. They froze her, and buried her, too weak to destroy her completely. They'd stopped her, but in the end, her goal had been partly achieved. The line of the Cetra began to dwindle, until there was only herself and her mother Ifalna. Shinra took care of her mother, all that was left was her. Now it was up to her, to put an end to Jenova's evil for good. 

Aeris sighed, looking out the window at the choked gray sky. Slivers of light were all that managed to get through the giant plate that hung over the Midgar slums. Midgar, the largest city on the planet. A city of dualities. The view that Shinra, the military rulers of Midgar, liked to promote was the shining silver sections on the top. The slums underneath this top plate were never discussed. The slums were what allowed the privileged rich to live so well. The slums produced all the products used on top, all the menial workers and servants came from the slums, the large and dangerous Mako reactors that powered the city were housed in the slums, people in the slums suffered to serve the rich. The only gratitude given to the workers were the piles of garbage that the rich dumped on them in heaps. In Aeris's eyes, Midgar was an eyesore, an abomination that she longed to escape from. But she was only a mere slip of a girl, and the world outside was just as hostile as the world she lived in. She barely held her head above water here, what chance did she have outside? 

Aeris looked at her clock, ten after six, time to go to work. She slipped out of her night gown, it was old and worn as most of her clothes were. Once disrobed, she quickly dressed for the day. It was early February, and though it had never been very cold in Midgar, it was still chilly enough to layer clothes for warmth. She pulled on a simple cotton dress, its sleeves slightly longer than she liked. Being poor the choice between fashion and comfort was a luxury she couldn't afford. Comfort always won out. Still, there was a slight bit of vanity on her part, after all she was still a sixteen year old girl....despite her odd situation. She buttoned up the dress, looking in the mirror to confirm that she didn't look too horrible. 

The dress was pink, her favorite color, as most of her clothing was. Most in the slums wished to blend in, wearing dark colors that suited the very darkness of the city itself. Aeris did everything in her power not to blend. She was determined to stick out. To be a ocean of hope in the midst of despair. Besides, brighter more hopeful colors suited her. 

Satisfied, she strode over to her dresser, digging through her drawers until she found a pair of socks. Plumping herself onto the floor she slid them on one foot at a time. She hopped up, stretching a little to get any remaining kinks out. The last touch was to brush her hair, pulling it up in a simple pink sash. The sash was special, it had belonged to her real mother. She'd given it to Aeris before she died, it had a piece of White Materia attached to it. Her mother had called it the last hope. Aeris had never understood what her mother had meant by that. 

With a last tug, Aeris felt ready to meet the world for another day. Trotting down her stairs, she grabbed her coat, simultaneously putting shoes on while pulling her arms through the sleeves. It had been a habit that her adoptive mother, Elmyra, had always taken delight in. She'd swear to Aeris that one of these days she'd fall over and wallop her head real good. It never happened, Aeris seemed gifted with an uncommon grace. Perhaps it came from her Cetra heritage, perhaps not. 

Exiting the small dwelling, Aeris picked up her basket before setting off to gather the flowers she'd be selling for the day. She sighed heavily, it was hard...holding the fate of the world on slender teenage shoulders. Aeris tried not to think about it, tried to be positive and not let it bother her, but it did. Her steps echoed in the quiet morn, crunching on the frost covered ground beneath her feet. Bending down, she began to pick her flowers carefully. Her home was hidden, not many came this far into Sector 5. It was best that it remained so. Being the last of her kind meant she was hunted. Shinra had long been experimenting in areas it had no business digging into. The legendary power of the Cetra were one, amongst many, they wished to exploit for their own purposes. They'd learned about her existence around three years ago, god knows how they'd found out. Perhaps it was the unnatural field of flowers cultivated in such a barren place. Her flowers bloomed, year round, no matter what the weather. She could grow any kind of flower she wished. From hot house beauties like the orchid to the most common hardy mum. 

A band of Turks, Shinra mercenaries, had been sent after her so many times she'd lost count. For some reason, the man they sent to kidnap her had taken a liking to her. His name was Reno, and for one reason or the other, he'd always bungled the mission somehow. Letting her escape, unsure it was good luck or bad luck to have his good will. There hadn't been an attempt in some time, she was probably due any day now. 

Slim fingers deftly picked out individual blooms. She smiled, being the steward of the planet had at least a few perks. Her flowers were the only thing that brought her any real joy. Though she'd never let her mother or the few acquaintances know it. Her troubles were beyond their care. They were unable to help her, unable to ease her pain much less understand it. If she told them, they'd just call her crazy. The girl who talked to the planet. The girl who had the uncanny ability to know the future. A freak...She wondered briefly if there was anyone else in this vast city who felt as alone and misunderstood as she. Probably, Midgar was a city that ate souls. It beat you down, till you had no hope left at all. She suspected it was the atmosphere of this damned city that had been getting to her. Still, she felt so alone...so miserably alone...._I hate this city_.... _it's just not fair_......She tried to suppress the rising tears and failed. Aeris wept soundlessly as she finished gathering her flowers, clumsily placing them in her basket. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she rose and wiped away her tears for the second time that day. She wouldn't let despair win. It had her by the boots, but damn it all she would fight it. She had to. Each day was a gift and she would enjoy it. Enjoy every last bit of life she had left. Her days were numbered. _Enjoy it, while it's yours to live_. She smiled, putting on her game face. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Stepping off the train onto the top plate, Aeris shivered, pulling her threadbare coat closer to her tiny body. Selling flowers had never made her much money, just enough to squeak by. With an adoptive mother who'd taken ill and herself, money had been tight. It was lucky that because of her natural gifts as a Cetra she could use her skills to help heal her mother. Medical care was expensive, besides the fact that she put little faith in Shinra's doctors. None of them were as good as her. Not arrogance on her part, only truth. Her magic would never cure her mother's illness, but neither would the doctor's care. It had seemed the last few times she'd used her skills, that her mother had gotten incrementally better. It did her good to remind herself of positive things like that. _Happy thoughts, Aeris, happy thoughts_....She walked the streets with purpose, determined to keep her spirits up. _I won't be broken_...._not by this city_...._not by anyone_.... There were few people on the streets yet, only a few early risers like herself milled about. Once the morning formally started these same streets would be choked with people. 

 Aeris let her mind wander while she people watched so she wouldn't dwell on unpleasant thoughts. In a big city like Midgar, it never did well to look at others the way Aeris did. It unnerved people. Denizens of the city liked to keep to themselves, staying detached from one another. It was easier and safer. Looking garnered attention and attention was not always what one wanted, especially if it was from the wrong person. Looking was an invitation for the wrong people to mess with you. Aeris never cared. Fate had already determined when she died and it was not at the hands of some petty criminal. Fate protected her, at least that's how she saw it. So she looked and watched and smiled. People much busier than her bustled past her, perceiving themselves to be so much more important than a pauper from the slums like her. That they knew so little of their place in the universe was enough to make her smile. 

The city dwellers blurred, tones of gray and blue and black melding together. A sudden flash of white caught her eyes. She slowed her pace, staring wide eyed at a young man who passed her, walking in the opposite direction from her own path. He was a little older than her and quite a bit taller. Very handsome, with snow white hair that caught in the bitter February wind. Long bangs fluttering over skin as colorless as his hair. She looked at his eyes, cold, hard little lumps of glowing blue-green set in an emotionless face. _Mako eyes_.... She ceased movement, her heart hammering in her chest, coloring draining from her face. Her blood turned cold as their eyes met, her face frozen in unadulterated fear. She dropped her basket, gasping....._It was him_.....The man that had haunted her dreams. The murderer of her future self. All she could do was stare at him, his cold eyes burning into her as she shook in fear. The man broke contact with her, long platinum hair still fluttering behind him. She froze to the spot, only moving once she was sure _he_ was gone. _He'd left, thank the gods he left_.....Tearfully she bent down to pick up her flowers, throwing them back into her basket as quickly as her shaky hands would allow. Though she couldn't see it, the young man had stopped and doubled back. He was an expert in stealth, watching the odd girl curiously as she picked up what was lost and hurried on her own way. 


	2. Skyward Slowly Dreaming

Pulling herself up and dusting off her dress, Aeris somehow managed to keep her emotions in check. She hurried towards her destination, trying to put as much room as possible between herself and that man. Her destination being Fennyman's Drug and Grocery on the corner of Prairie and 44th, for the last three years she'd sold her flowers there. She had become great friends with the owner, Mr. Fennyman himself. He allowed her a small display space in front of his store. People liked her flowers, they were so rarely found in a place of iron and steel. The pretty little girl who sold such lovely flowers had attracted more customers, good for him, good for her. Besides the fact that he thought she was just plain sweet, a quality that many city dwellers lacked. Aeris arrived just as Mr. Fennyman was unlocking his store to start his day. She was still visibly shaken, though she somehow managed not to cry. Mr. Fennyman took notice, it was unlike cheerful Aeris to look as upset as she did now. 

"Morning Aeris, are you alright?" he asked, unlocking and pushing back the cage that ran across the store's entrance.

"Yeah......" she answered, putting on her best smile, "Just ran into a really scary guy back there. I'm alright now though."

"Oh my.....Well, glad you're okay. You know I worry about you.....Midgar is no place for a pretty girl like you. Ought to move outta this place, go somewhere better..... Like Costa del Sol....or Nibelheim. Yes, a nice little mountain town would do you good."

Aeris giggled, "Sure sounds nice....but I think Midgar needs my flowers more than anyplace else." 

"Yes, I suppose it does need some color, eh?....Well, you take care. Break my old heart if anything happened to ya." Mr. Fennyman sighed, turning back to his gate, "Enough chit chat. Gotta get to work. Have a great day, Aeris."

"You too Mr. Fennyman." 

Aeris smiled turning her back as he went inside. Moments later she was setting up for the day, her lithe body moving in quick rhythm as she set up. She sat down on her stool, her basket placed next to her for easy access. A small tiered table was in front of her, ready for today's newest displays. Picking out individual blooms, Aeris set about arranging them with nimble little fingers. 

The streets began to fill as the day began. Business was slow in the morning, always was, picking up near the mid-afternoon. She liked it when it was busy. Exchanging Gils for flowers, smiling, saying thank you. Each step repeated time and time again, from sunrise to sunset. For some there was terrible monotony in the kind of work she did, but Aeris loved it. The interaction with strangers, making their day with the simple purchase of a bouquet. It was yet another positive reminder that there was still good in this world and it was worth saving. 

With each sale her day brightened and not just because she was making money. She was doing good, giving the world hope. It lifted her previously dark mood and helped her to forget the morning's bad start. She forgot the dream, and the encounter with a man who terrified her beyond measure. Working swiftly as a multi-armed goddess, her smiling brightening with each sale. As she worked in graceful splendor, a pair of glowing jade eyes observed her silently from the shadows. 

The sun set behind the clouds, casting amber shadows across the sparkling buildings of the upper plate. Workers filed out in droves, all heading for home. Days end was always her busiest time. Nothing better to give your girl at the end of a day than flowers. She'd never had real concrete hours of operation, usually quitting when her sales started to dwindle or she ran out of flowers. If neither those things happened, she'd work until five thirty, when Mr. Fennyman closed up shop.  

He poked his head out to see if she was there, smiling when he found she was, "Hey, I'm closing in a minute. Why don't you pack up, I'll help you when I'm finished."

She looked back, grinning back at him, " 'Kay!"

Happily she began to clean up, grabbing one of the leftover arrangements to put it in her basket. There were two left, a nice Jasmine and Rose bouquet that she thought Mrs. Fennyman would like. She placed it in her basket, turning back to the other remaining arrangement. The noise of an approaching customer bothered her not one bit.  It was common to have stragglers at the end of the day. She felt bad that she'd have to turn him down, but that's how it went sometimes. Aeris continued her clean up, counting the day's profits without even looking up.

"Excuse me Miss?" the stranger asked, his voice quiet yet demanding attention, "I'd like to buy some flowers."

Still working, Aeris payed no mind, "I'm sorry sir, but I'm all out. All I have left is this really wilted Gardenia bouquet and I don't think...." She glanced up, and her heart stopped. 

It was him again, the platinum locked stranger. Her mouth moved wordlessly, and she felt like she just might pass out. He just looked down at her quizzically, as if he was sizing her up. Those eyes boring holes into her very soul. Those eyes, they pulled her in and repelled her at the same time. Her fleeting glance at him in the morning hadn't given her enough time to measure his features. He was more than just handsome, he was gorgeous. 

If she was a normal girl, perhaps she'd be enchanted by that face. If she hadn't dreamt of what he was capable of, then perhaps she could fall for that face. One look into his eyes, those eyes.....they were empty, nearly without humanity. Nearly. Aeris looked closer, yes, unlike the man of her dreams.....this one still had a soul, his humanity was neatly tucked away but there all the same. She shook herself, feeling silly and stupid for thinking such thoughts. This man would kill her, even now, if he felt like it. 

Aeris quickly composed herself, tearing away her gaze, "I-I'm sorry. It's just, I have nothing left....Come back tomorrow...." 

_Idiot_...._why'd you say that_.....she cursed herself.

The stranger continued to watch her quietly as she tried to appear too busy to talk. What a strange girl she was. He'd gotten used to the stares and the mooning of fan-girls by now. At first he thought her just another star struck fan, but something about the girl had seemed different. It had piqued his curiosity. So he'd sat and watched her all day, observing people had been something he enjoyed. It was the only way he ever felt like he belonged, when he acted as if he wasn't part of the world at all. 

At first glance she'd seemed quite ordinary, but in his observance he noticed that she was anything but. There was an ease in her manner, a gentle grace that seemed to beacon outwards and envelope any who touched it with warm light. He'd never felt such warmth, and though he wished to seize it, something held him back. 

He had to feel her out first, find out more about this girl. Why did she stare at him this morning, dropping her little basket in surprise? Why did her face hold fear and not awe? Had she met him before and did he just not remember? And if they had met, what had he done to put such fear in her eyes? 

".....Have we met?" 

"N-no......." 

His eyes narrowed at her answer, he could see how her whole body shook underneath her coat, "Why are you afraid of me if we haven't met before?"

"I'm na-n-not afraid......only cold."  she answered him, her hands shaking as she broke down her display for the night.

Her face twitched, his keen eyes sensing deceit, "You're lying." 

Her green eyes flashed, stealing a glance at him before she set to "working" again. She was about to answer when Mr. Fennyman came to her rescue.

"Ready to go Aeris?" He paused, looking at the young man who stood before her, "Evening sir......Ready Aeris?"

"Yes I am." She looked from her friend back to the stranger, "I'm sorry I ran out......"

"Then I'll come back tomorrow......Aeris."

Her eyes widened and it took every ounce of energy in her not to cry. Now he knew her name dammit. The stranger turned and left, walking out into the oncoming night, back to the shadows from whence he came. Shakily Aeris helped pull in her display stand and stool, letting Mr. Fennyman lock it behind the gate. 

"Oh, Aeris....the Missus insisted I give this to you..." He said, handing her a small bundle. 

She opened it carefully, inside were a scarf and a freshly baked loaf of bread. Aeris smiled, "Oh, I don't deserve this!! Thank you so much!!"

He grinned back sheepishly, "Nonsense. You do deserve it. I went home on my lunch break and told her how sad you looked this morning. Made her feel so bad. She'd been making that scarf for you anyway, but today's as good a day as any to give it to you.....Anyway, just a small thank you from us to you."

"Thank you....OH! Give this to the Misses...." Aeris pulled out the Jasmine and Rose bouquet, "It's a lovely arrangement and when you're done with it you can dry it and grind it up for tea!"

"Thank you Aeris. See you tomorrow?"

"Course...Good night....."

They both smiled before going their separate ways. She could barely hold on to her smile, and once he was gone it faded instantly. How silly of her to think her troubles had been wiped away. They never were. That man, that damn man haunted her. Wasn't it bad enough that he'd eventually take her life. Did he have to haunt her like that? What had she done in her previous life to deserve such punishment, she didn't know. 

She was no longer able to hold the crescendo of emotions. Hot tears flowed down her face and she ran, ran faster than she ever had in her whole life. The world becoming a tear streaked blur as her feet pumped beneath her. She had to get away. He was probably still here. If he followed her to her work, why not follow her further? Why not? Because haunting her was his damn job now. She ran blindly, knocking right into someone as she rounded a corner. _God, it's him_....she thought as she fell to the ground. 

"Watch where the hell you're goin' you crazy bitch......Oh....Hi Aeris...."

She looked up, the voice was familiar somehow. A red haired man stood above her, his sunglasses and dark blue suit were a dead giveaway to his identity. A Turk. Moreover, her dreaded non-nemesis. 

"Hello Reno....." She said, her voice thick with irritation.

"Hey, what kind of greeting is that?"

"Like yours was appropriate! So what are you here for anyway? I so don't need your crap today!" She scowled at him as he lit a cigarette. 

"Whoa!" He grinned innocently, "Someone's had a bad day! Don't worry, ain't here on business, only pleasure...."

Aeris rolled her eyes as she pushed herself up off the pavement, she hated it when he tried to smooth talk her. "Dear god.....What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Means I have a day off and I'm gonna visit my favorite broad." She gave out an indignant gasp, her eyebrows knotting in disapproval. He ignored her, taking another drag off his cigarette, "What?! You know I only live to bug you.....It's either that or try to get Rude to talk. I'd rather run in front of a bus naked than that."

"Nice visual......could you help me or something.... I think I twisted an ankle." She said, rubbing the area in question for emphasis. 

"Sure....anything for my baby...." He said, giving her a hand up, "So what's up with the bad mood?"

"Long day.....Encounter with a creepy guy. Don't want to talk."

"Creepy guy? So that means you'll be needing an escort....." He paused and when she didn't object he continued, "I'm you man.....Lead on, Señorita!" 


	3. Impressonist Afterglow

The gentle golden overtones of early evening deepened into the lavender dusk that served as Midgar's version of night. Aeris and Reno walked slowly through the streets as the city emptied of busy workers. Streetlights winked on, throwing hazy impressionistic illumination over the darkened streets. A light snow started to fall, downy flakes floating lazily from the heavens to meet the ground. Aeris turned her face up, letting the flakes kiss her skin gently. 

"It's a beautiful night...." 

"Eh...." Reno grunted noncommittally, cigarette hanging from his mouth, "Hey.... I'm hungry. Get somethin' to eat with me...."

"No...."

"Come on.....I hate eating alone. I'll take you to the best place in this part of town.... Cygnus.... you can't pass up Cygnus!" 

Aeris glowered at him, "Yes I can... and what am I going to eat there? A five Gil milk shake? I can't possibly afford it. No thanks....." 

Reno smiled as if he had a sudden epiphany, "I'm buying... Don't even try to say no. It's my birthday present to you, so it'd be rude if you refuse...."

"How did...."

"It's in your file," he said, grinning from ear to ear, "_Come on_, just say yes. You know I won't stop buggin' you till you do....."

She relented, albeit grudgingly, "Fine....."

They walked in relative silence towards their destination. Coming upon a large and fancy looking restaurant. It was decorated in retro-chic, the main restaurant looking like some kind of horrible lounge. There was also a nice section with little booths and a neat looking lunch counter set up. Reno entered first, chatting up the Maître d'. Aeris felt very out of place in the restaurant. Everyone else was dressed very nicely, their clothes costing more than she made in a week. Probably made of silks and satins, while she sat there with a worn cotton dress. Even Reno fit in better than she. His garb as a Turk wasn't exactly evening formal, but it was more appropriate than her simple dress. 

Reno procured a table, looking back and smiling at Aeris. She returned it weakly. The Maître d' showed them to the diner section, where Reno took a seat in one of the booths. He sat down, immediately picking up the menu to order.  Aeris followed suit, consciously aware of the stares she got as she entered. She just wanted this day to end. She picked up a menu, glumly looking at the menu. _Jeesh, everything's overpriced_..._I hate this kind of place_... she bemoaned inwardly. 

Reno looked up from his menu, noticing the troubled look on Aeris's face, "So, what's going on with you? You haven't been yourself...I mean, by now you'd be yelling at me about how expensive this place is..." She said nothing, looking at him with those incredible green eyes, "Is it about that creepy guy?" She nodded, "Hey, tell me what he looks like, and I'll beat him senseless. Nobody messes with my Chica but me."

"No and No..... and I'm not your _Chica_..."  

"Yes, you are...You're like a little sis to me. So whatcha gonna order? I'm thinkin' 'bout the steak..."

"It's so expensive..." 

"So what!!! ...Remember, I'm paying..." he paused, handing her a medium sized package, "This is for you.... Happy Birthday."

"Hey, I thought dinner was my present..." She said, reluctantly taking the package.

"You argue too much...Open the damn present." 

She carefully peeled back the colorful paper surrounding the box, folding it and setting it next to her. Taking as much care with the box, she opened it as well. Pushing back the tissue paper, Aeris drew out a small silver cylinder. She turned the thing over in her hands, looking at Reno with confusion. 

"What is it?"

"It's a staff...retractable, so you can hide it on ya...and if someone wants to start some shit, push that button and VIOLA...a staff with which to beat your enemies senseless." He smiled, pointing at a small button on the side of it with cigarette in hand. 

"Thank you.... but I don't know how to use something like this...I'm not sure if I need it." 

He scowled this time, "Course ya do...What with the creepy guy and all. A young pretty girl like you needs something to beat off thugs with. And don't worry 'bout how to use it. I'll stop by your church sometime and give ya pointers. Plus, when I bought it, it came with a basic Materia starter set.... Fire, Lighting, and Cure...So bein' an ancient and all.... big with the magic, you don't even have to use it as a weapon...See, I'm thinkin'" 

She laughed, "Yeah.... Okay.... Thanks. I suppose it'll come in handy."

The waitress came up to take their order, taking Reno's first then Aeris. She wrote down quickly, giving Aeris another one of the many odd stares she'd gotten this evening. Before she left he asked for a newspaper, she nodded and left. Returning a few minutes later with their drinks and a newspaper for Reno. He took it with a nod, rustling the pages as he looked for the sports section. Sipping his coffee and pretending to read, he looked over at Aeris again. He'd really like to find out who that guy was, it bothered him. Her status as an Ancient wasn't widely known, but there are ways for the wrong people to find out those kinds of things. 

"So seriously, tell me about this guy...Call me concerned..."

She sighed, "It's nothing......don't worry about it."

"You always do that... Don't worry, it's nothing you'd understand...Bullshit. If you haven't noticed this city is a shit pile, filled with criminals and god knows what. The only thing keepin' people in line is fear, and even then that don't amount to much. I'm worried for you...Besides, I might not understand.... probably more Ancient crap that only you get, but least I can listen. You can't just bottle your shit up.... ya feelin' me?"

Another long and heavy sigh came from her, "Reno.... do you believe in fate?"

"No....the only person who decides what happens in my life is me...Do you?"

She looked at him sadly, and nodded, "Reno, what if you knew what was going to happen to you? Like, if.... at a certain time and place, you knew you were going to die... and who was going to kill you...What would you do?"

"At this point, this is all just hypothetical, right?" He waited, and she nodded again, "Well.... If I knew the guy who was gonna wack me...I'd find him and shoot the mother fucker in the back of the head." This drew a disapproving look from Aeris, to which he smiled sheepishly, "...but that ain't you...You'd probably just give him a hug and a cookie...Sorry, my advice is bad...Please continue..." 

"I'm not sure if I should..." She paused, frowning in mock-irritation, realizing that it was good to at least get it off her chest, "...I had this dream. It's Ancient crap, as you so eloquently put it...In the dream; I saw the exact moment of my death.......... Right down to the last detail, how it felt...everything..."

Reno took a sip of coffee and thought for a moment, "Hmm..... So.... It's like that one slasher movie with the guy with the claws and the killing in your sleep. I thought that if you died in your sleep then you die in real life..." 

 "Honestly, everything you know about life comes from the movies, doesn't it?" He shrugged his shoulders with a goofy grin, Aeris rolled her eyes, "NO, you don't...at least in mine I don't. Anyway...In _my_ dream, I was murdered...I saw the face of my killer...I knew him...The guy who I saw in my dream is the same guy who came to buy flowers today..."

"The creepy guy?" He interrupted, his eyes narrowing, a dangerous light glinting in their depths, "What does he look like, for real. I don't believe in fate, and I don't know that I believe in your dreams...but if you think he'll hurt you, I'll hurt him first...free of charge." 

Aeris shook her head, "It's okay...You don't have to..."

"No, I _want _to know...what does the cock sucker look like...."

"Tall, pale...probably a SOLDIER...he had Mako eyes...um...His hair was white, and he had these bangs that..." Aeris paused to look at Reno, whose eyes had gone wide, "What?"

He said nothing, holding up a finger while he shuffled through the newspaper. Lighting on the page he was looking for, he held it up to Aeris. A tiny gasp escaped her lips as she looked at the picture in front of her. 

"Is that him?" She nodded, "Sweet fucking crispy, Girl...Do you live under a rock? You dreamed that Sephiroth, THE _General Sephiroth_.... is going to kill you! I'm not gonna call you crazy, but I have to say it is pretty weird."

She frowned, a passing look of hurt flickering across her face, "General Sephiroth? Never heard of him...but I do know what I saw. When I dream like that it always comes true...and that's the man I saw in my dream, the man who killed me....or is going to....." 

"Well, true or not.... I'd hate to go up against him. Youngest General in Shinra history...He's one cold bastard. Tseng's met him...says he makes the Turks look like warm fuzzy bunnies. Let me tell you, I don't like killin' people.... none of us do, that's why we drink...But this guy, the killin' don't seem to bother him...Tseng seyz the guy's emotionless, just kills without even thinkin' about it...no hesitation.... he just kills...Scared the shit outta him... That's sayin' something. Tseng's one tough mother fucker... nuthin' scares him, 'cept our dear General." He paused, noting that the story had an unintended effect on Aeris. She was white as a sheet, her eyes widened into large saucers, "....... Now, all that's real impressive and fuckin' ass scary ...but I think if Sephiroth really wanted you dead, you'd damn sure be there already.....He's a soldier, not a murder.....even if he his creepy."

"Well, I didn't say he'd do it _now_.....It's far in the future....." She pouted defensively, her brow knitting with worry. 

"Hmmmm......Well, if you're worried I'll stick around. Escort ya to your train, and how 'bout tomorrow I meet ya at your church. Keep an eye on ya..... Though, I still don't understand. Most girls in a thirty mile radius would be creaming their shorts if the Great General Sephiroth wanted their ass....." 

Aeris didn't reply, looking up as the waitress came and gave them their food.  She ate her food quietly, listening to Reno chatter on about the most mundane of things. He didn't seem to mind that she wasn't contributing much. In the end it didn't matter, it's not like he'd understand what she'd have to say. Humans were disconnected from the world, never hearing its cries. As a Cetra, she was intimately connected, the web of life constantly surrounding her. Knowing what made everything around her, from people to the rocks to the buildings to plants, right down to the fiber of her own being. She could hear the planet's cries, feel its pain.....and to not have anyone to share it with was worse than death to her. At least she felt just a little better and the food was good, even though it was much too expensive in Aeris's eyes. She even got to try her very first five Gil milk shake, and she had to say it was worth what was spent. After the meal, Reno walked her over to the train station, saying good-bye as she got in. He watched her safely seated in the train, until it took off and sped through the darkened streets. He too was troubled. Why was the General of the entire Shinra armed forces snooping around, looking to do....whatever it was he wanted to do with Aeris? Had they finally got tired of him screwing up and assigned someone else the job? Reno hoped for Aeris's sake that they hadn't. Both he and Tseng had agreed to screw up as much as possible when it came to her. She was too sweet a kid to land into the hands of a freak like Hojo. 


	4. In Reverence of Sanity

Amongst the elite, the Shinra building was a symbol of their success and ever growing wealth. A seventy-floor glass and steel monument to the city's excesses. It was in this monolith that Sephiroth hoped to find some answers to the questions buzzing through his brain. His fury of thought in and of itself wasn't worrisome; in fact it was quite normal. It was the nature of his thoughts that were not. _Aeris_.....her name slid off his tongue so easily.  The name did sound familiar to him, though he could not remember the where and when. Why he was so suddenly obsessed over a common flower seller, he himself didn't even know. Though one thing was certain, something in his mind would not be satisfied until he did. 

Women. Ever since the first day his promotion to General had been announced, he'd been surrounded by them. The old saw _that women wanted him and men wanted to be him_ applied to his status in the public eye. For the life of him, Sephiroth couldn't understand why. Any number of complimentary adjectives had been attached to his name by both sexes. Compliments meant nothing to him. It was hollow adulation, and he couldn't stand it. They were sycophants, only greasing him up to try and share in the glow of _his_ hard won success. 

And what kind of success had he achieved? He'd killed a lot of people. Expanded Shinra's influence. Made widows and orphans in the thousands. Destroyed the economy and well being of an entire culture. _Some success_. But he did it. He regretted it, now and then, but he still did it.....no questions asked. Why? He hated it, then why did he do it? ......._because you like to kill_.....a desiccated voice hissed inwardly. He closed his eyes, _Shut up_....he snapped at it. The voice only laughed hollowly in its strange and bitter tone. 

That voice had plagued him of late, in truth it had always been there at the back of his mind. Any negative emotion elicited a comment from that voice. At one time there had been another, and it had been years since he thought of it. He recalled it had never really been voice, only a hum in the back of his mind when he was happy. Over the years that hum had disappeared taking his joy of life with it, and the only voice that remained was the voice of Legion. The voice of the Devil. Always nagging, urging him on to kill, maim and destroy. He'd held it back, ignored it as long as he could, but recently his resolve hadn't been as strong as it once was. Sephiroth snorted, _What would my adoring fans think if they knew? The Great Sephiroth, struggling with demonic inner voices_.... 

What would the world think indeed? That under his carefully cool exterior lay a man in constant torment and barely in control of his own sanity. They could say what they wanted about him; call him great....genius.....handsome.....but it all rung false in his ears. He knew what he was. A freak of nature. Abnormally strong and intelligent beyond his years. Easily casting high-level magic men twice his age had difficulty mastering. If that were the only evidence he had, it'd be enough. The naturally white color of his hair made him stand out even further. 

Only old men had hair like his. Though, he didn't know what age he might really be, perhaps he was an old man. If so, it'd make his appearance even odder. It was guessed that he was in his late teens to early twenties. Not like the man who called himself father cared either way. Hojo, his "father", had given him the barest details of his early life. His mother's name was Jenova and she had died in childbirth. That was all he knew. 

A week straight of painful injections without complaint, that is what it took to get that information. At the time, Sephiroth had wondered if Hojo would even tell him anything at all. The man liked to inflict pain; especially on him....the bargain Sephiroth had negotiated seemed to amuse him. It would have been easy to break his spirit along with his body, but he didn't. Perhaps Hojo liked it better when he screamed. __

Sephiroth pushed open one of the glass entrances to the Shinra building. The eerie glow of fluorescent lights painted the main entrance a sickly green tint. It had the effect of making the entire lobby look like one large hospital room. _Or perhaps a laboratory_.... He shivered with revulsion. This was why he killed? To keep a place of degradation and sin working smoothly, allowing it to subjugate souls one by one till nothing was left. There had to be something more. Something bigger and better than this. His purpose in life shouldn't be to serve the very reason for the world's sickness. Once he had the resources....the answers.....perhaps he wouldn't serve it any longer. 

That girl, Aeris, she hid something from him. A vital fact that he needed in his search for something better than what he called this  life. What did this girl know.....what was she? The light she exuded, there was something in it he needed. Perhaps it had been that one blessed moment of silence, when he'd gotten close enough to reach out and touch her light. That one moment when that voice had fled in terror, and the hum he'd missed for so long returned. He thought this as he walked through the lobby, all eyes in the room watching as the enigmatic general strode towards the elevators. 

Employees visibly moved away from him as he approached. Whether it was awe or fear, or a combination of both, didn't matter in the least to the young man. He was known for his rather unpredictable fits of temper. Sephiroth stood in front of the bank of elevators, choosing one at random and waiting quietly. The other employees who waited near the same elevator relocated to one of the other lifts. No one wanted to be in a cramped space with General Sephiroth. He couldn't help but smile wryly to himself at the irony. Some of these same people, who would stand next to him without fear while he was in the spotlight, couldn't bear to be near him when it wasn't. Wanting him and loathing him at the same time. Sometimes he wondered if it would be better if he'd just let go and give into the voice. _yesssssss,_ _you were made to destroy, why do you deny it_? _I'm more than you want me to be, more than what they want me to be, BE QUIET_! 

A pleasant bell sounded as his lift became available, the metal door soundlessly opening. Sephiroth entered, his long black trench coat flapping in rhythm with his long strides. Stepping into the elevator, he gazed out the wide glass window and without looking pushed the button for the 62nd floor. The chime went off as the doors closed, though Sephiroth didn't hear it. He was concentrating on his own strange reflection. He'd never liked looking at himself, the face in the mirror a constant reminder of his lack of normalcy. Silver hair draped over dark fabric. He had gone casual that day. Leaving his straps and armor in his apartment, in favor of a simple black silk shirt and black cotton pants, along with his trademark coat. He wanted to blend, if that was possible for one such as he. The whole general get-up would have made it even harder. 

The elevator ding had gone off, startling Sephiroth from his reverie. Moving swiftly through the doors before they even opened fully, he walked down the empty hallway to the Shinra library. He didn't even take note of the guard at the entrance, and the guard didn't dare to stop the General and ask him for identification. His boot heels clicked on the shiny surface of the floor, echoing as he moved swiftly down the hall. He entered the public records section, making a beeline for the computer terminal. 

Typing fast, he entered the information he wished to search for. Hopefully there were only a few young girls around 15 to 17 with the name Aeris. The computer chugged and hummed, the little hourglass tipping up and down on the screen. Slowly the information requested came up, curiously there was only one matching record and it was _not_ in the public records section. It was in the restricted access library, coded AS-ae-102-T. Sephiroth's eyes narrowed contemplatively. The code was familiar to him; it was used to indicate a file that had anything to do with the Turks and their activities. _Damn it_.  Being the General of the Shinra army he had nearly unlimited access, nearly. The only files he couldn't touch were the Turks. Didn't make a difference. There were things in that file he needed, and he'd be damned if anyone would stop him. Not that anyone could even if they tried. 

A few minutes later he broke into the Turk's library, after having knocked out the guard at the door. Sooner or later someone in Main Security would see the unconscious guard on the closed circuit, and he'd be caught. But he'd have what he wanted by then. Flicking on the light, he found the file cabinet he wanted and tore the drawer open, breaking the lock. Long fingers flipped through the files, rapidly viewing each file's numbers as he went. He stopped; fingering gently touching the file he wanted, his eyes gazing at it sharply. Pulling it free, he leafed through the papers inside it. The one on the top was a formal request to the Turks for their assistance in finding the girl.

**Request-102    DALV-01      03-28-09**

Status-Active

Subject-Female, approx. 12 to 13 yrs. Name unknown. 

DOB- 02-07-3293, approx. from science record-GAS-Ifl/Ae-194

Subject Description- Average in appearance. Hair most likely light brown to black. Eyes, unusually bright blue-green. No other defining physical characteristics.

LIV.CAP/DOA- Alive and in good condition

Notes- Subject is requested for testing upon Prof. Hojo's orders. Subject has affinity for all forms of planet-life. Look for subject to have job in horticulture industry. Check flower shops, greenhouses, and nurseries for subjects matching description. Will have success at growing flora in unacceptable growing conditions. Look for reports of vegetation growth in barren areas of city. Subject most likely lives in lower plate and is not a registered resident. 

Assigned to--E172621-TSE w/ass. f/m sub.--E173645-REN

Sephiroth read the short document, pulling it out and setting it to the side. He continued flipping through documents. Most of them were progress reports, noting the different leads that had been investigated. He ignored them, flipping continuously until he came to another document that caught his attention. 

  


05-13-09   Addendum to RE-102 

Contact has been made with subject. Flower seller possibly residing in Sector 5. Female, name Aeris, last seen in Sec. 5 abandoned church. Subject is known to frequent church, reports indicate unusual growth of vegetation in area. Further tests needed. **Science Dept. recommendation--take test sample from specimen J/N-SEPH-01. **Subject Aeris is thought to be an ancient. To determine Subject's status, expose to specimen SEPH-01. Subject Aeris should have strong negative reaction to sample. If status is positively identified, capture and return to Shinra HQ--terminate Subject Aeris if identification is negative or undetermined. 

Sephiroth paled--specimen SEPH-01--that was his number, the one used on all the science department documents regarding the various tests performed on him. It explained her fear of him to some extent. But why? _becaussssse_..._she knows what you deny, your destiny_....._you must destroy her, she stands in our way_....._kill her now_...._SHUT UP!_  He had to talk to her, he needed to. Because the voice was starting to sound all too reasonable, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could resist its pull. She was the key to silencing that voice. _NO! Stay away from her! She only brings trouble_......_all the more reason for me to seek her out you bitch, now be quiet_....He carefully tucked both reports into his coat, turning his head slightly to the door. His ears heard footsteps in the hall, the company he was expecting had finally come.

"Sephiroth? What are you doing in here?"

He turned to regard the man speaking to him, recognizing the leader of the Turks as he stepped into the library. Behind the raven-haired leader were a host of low-level grunts with weapons drawn. 

"I was reading......" 

"This area is restricted. How did you....."

Sephiroth silenced the man with a look, his jade eyes glowing brightly with malice. He put a hand to his masamune, which he had always by his side. The General closed the gap between them in the blink of an eye, he was so fast that the Turk barely had time to register the movement. Tseng's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gaping for air. He was suddenly eye-to-eye with Sephiroth, and he was afraid. 

"...T-th-th-is library is f-for Turk use o-only.... I'm afraid you'll have to l-l-leave...." 

"That's funny....I was just on my way out....."

The man pointed to the file tucked underneath his arm, "The f-file....you have one of our files....it can't leave.....Please give it back..."

Holding up the file, he waggled it at Tseng like it was a carrot and he was the jackass. Tseng reached out his hand to take it carefully, all the while afraid of what the General might do. Sephiroth smiled, his face devoid of anything that would resemble joy. He unfurled his fingers, letting the file drop to the ground and scattering its contents. Tseng scowled at him, forgetting his fear momentarily for indignant annoyance. The Turk bent down and began to pick up the errant papers, stuffing them quickly back into their folder. Sephiroth stepped over him, striding confidently out the door and shoving past the guards. He had what he wanted.


	5. Sympathy for the Devil

Reno walked down the corridor that lead to the Turk's private offices. Idly smoking a cigarette, wondering if he'd get some sleep tonight. He'd seen Aeris safely onto her train, promising to meet her bright and early at eight the next morning. Like an idiot he agreed, without even thinking to clear it with his boss. Dully staring at the ugly office art that decorated the hallway, he wondered if Tseng'd be pissed. _Yes, he probably will be_. Tseng wasn't short tempered, but when he did get angry you had to watch out. It's the slow fuse that leads to the biggest payload. Reno pretty much figured he'd cuss him out for five minutes and then tell him to fuck off because he had better things to do. That was Tseng's way. Sauntering up to Tseng's office, Reno prepared himself. _Hopefully there ain't any big assignments tomorrow_…He sighed and put on his most serious face.

Swinging the door open on complete chaos, Reno looked around Tseng's office in shock. Tseng wasn't a particularly neat individual. The rest of the Turks always teased him about his messy office, and though he pretended offense, Tseng always took it good-naturedly. He insisted that there was order in his disorder, and he could easily find anything he needed. What greeted Reno this particular night was anything but the normally disorderly order. This was a mess, a grand fucking shit pile of a mess. _A hurricane could have hit this place and left it neater_. 

Tables and cabinets were turned over, contents spilled on the carpet. The room illuminated by one fluorescent light bulb, its twin only occasionally sputtering to life. Several large and ugly holes punched in the wall. A filing cabinet riddled with bullet holes. And a painting of the sea that Reno had always liked barely hanging lopsided on the wall, its protective glass shattered in spiraling spider webs. Everything within arms reach, rent and torn. 

Reno stood for a moment, staring in awe. Bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, he whistled. The man in the middle of all of it barely noticed. Tseng sat at his desk, the only piece of furniture left untouched, glaring darkly into space while dragging on a cigarette. 

Reno cocked his head and shrugged his shoulders, coolly regarding his boss, "Love what you've done with the place." 

Tseng looked up slowly, eyes glazed over in thought. His face blankly mysterious in expression, "What the fuck do you want?" 

"Damn! Just checking in….No need to be so hostile. So what the hell happened?" 

"Shit happened…." Tseng gazed around, the dull apathy in his eyes disappearing, "Hmm….Man, I really tore this place up. Sorry….Anger management. Had some issues to work on."

"Ah! Issues…..So the obvious choice to working through issues is to destroy your office. Gotcha." Reno said, clearing off a space and righting a chair to sit. 

"Yeah, either that or I kill someone. I figured the brass would frown on murdering for fun…. Decreases their profit margin…. besides, I've been meaning to redecorate, but I digress. What brings you up here?" 

"Just checking to see what's on the plate for tomorrow."

"…..Not much. Well, one thing in Nibelheim, but it's a total bullshit job. I'm sending the request back to the military. We're Turks for fuck's sake. Heidegger's assholes can go and do recon. I'm tired of them treating us like errand boys." Tseng seethed, stubbing out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, "So, what's up with you?"

Reno looked at him blandly, "Nothing. Just wondering if I'm on clock for anything, that's all. Being a proactive member of the Shinra team…." 

 "Yeah, you saw that memo too. Who the hell comes up with shit like that? Corporate rat bastards….Be a team member, let us stick our thumb up your ass, bullshit." Tseng paused, He looked at Reno, dark eyes peering at him weighing his co-worker's demeanor, "How long have you been a Turk?" 

Reno thought for a moment, trying to trace back his history. He'd never been good at remembering things year by year. He lived his life by the seat of his pants, no time to write shit down in a mental notebook. 

"Fuck! I don't know three, four years maybe….more or less….Why do you ask?"

Tseng picked up a pencil off his desk, errantly thumping it on the mahogany surface, "Because you aren't a proactive member of the Shinra team. You never ask. Never. I just hand you what I think you can handle and you do it. So tell me what's on your mind and quit dancing around the issue already." 

"I kind of made a promise to a friend for tomorrow."

 "And would this friend be of the female persuasion?" Tseng laughed, shaking his head, "Goddamn! You are too predictable." 

"Aw! Fuck off! It's not like that….It's Aeris…..okay, Aeris…." Reno snarled, leaning over to stub out his cigarette, "She wanted me to walk her to work tomorrow. And don't ask why…..It's a long story. So… long as we're revealing our feelings, what's the deal with this mess? You still haven't fessed up…." 

Tseng thought back for a moment, to his encounter with Sephiroth. Anger began to well up again. _Bastard, fucking bastard_. He felt shame and embarrassment over his own base cowardice. How could he let some_thing_ like that rattle him, humiliate him in front of a bunch of stupid grunts. He'd pay for it; Tseng swore he would. 

"Hmpf….Speaking of our dear Aeris…._This_ has everything to do with her….Documents were stolen from the Turk's restricted library. Documents from her file, to be exact." Tseng said placidly, belying the fury within as he flung his pencil up at the ceiling. He stopped to stare up and watch it stick into the tiles with a satisfying tack, "I'm worried they might be assigning her to another department. So I guess it's a good deal, you keeping an eye on her on your days off. So, are you two going out behind my back or is it something else?" Tseng glanced at Reno sideways, giving him a little smirk.

"Something else." Reno said, his tone unusually serious, "She had some weird ass dream. Convinced that she knows when she's gonna die and who's gonna kill her. Really freaked her out. Poor kid…..The kicker is, she thinks that General Fucking Sephiroth's the one who's gonna do it….I mean, talk about crazy ass shit….That's just cracked but I had a hard time breaking it to her that…." Reno rambled on for a moment or two longer, aware that Tseng had suddenly sat bolt upright at the mention of the General's name, "Now I know you're all freaky with him too, but you have to admit…..It's bloody unlikely…"

"UNLIKELY MY ASS!!!….. …..Who do you think stole the god damn files?!" Tseng stood abruptly, wrenching his gun from his shoulder holster and aiming at the wall, "SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!!" Pulling the trigger without interruption, he shot off the rest of his rounds into the already bullet riddled drywall. Anger spent, Tseng threw the weapon down with contempt and slumped in his seat, "I'm going to tell you some things right now Reno….and you have to swear that it won't leave this room. Do you swear?"

"Yeah…." Reno replied, feeling very unnerved and on edge.

"Because if you breathe a word, I will personally hunt you down and kill you like a dog…We on the same page?"

"Fuck, Yes…..Want me to engrave it on my god damn forehead?" 

Tseng seemed indifferent to the insult; as long as Reno understood, he didn't care. "Great. But first, I want you to tell me everything Aeris said, did…what she acted like…EVERYTHING. Get me?" 

Reno nodded slowly, wary of the dangerous glare in Tseng's dark brown eyes. He recounted as well as he could, everything Aeris had told him. Stopping only to answer Tseng's questions, of which he had many. Tseng was disturbed by what Reno was telling him. He was now less worried about a transfer, and more worried about what the General might want personally. Reno finished his narrative to Tseng's satisfaction, waiting patiently while his boss thought. His mind working fast, as he tried to put together scattered details. _So if it's not some sad excuse for Hojo to transfer control to the Science Department…what is it_? He turned the details over, because nothing seemed to add up. The only thing he could trust was that Aeris knew her stuff. He absolutely believed what she dreamt had some truth in it. _Still, why would Sephiroth want to kill the last ancient_? Power, it began and ended with power. Whatever individual reason Sephiroth might have didn't matter. It was what lay underneath. 

"Are you done thinking yet? I'm bored….and I'd like to sleep sometime tonight. Got an early morning…." 

Tseng shook his head, breaking away from his interior dialogue. His eyes met Reno's, dark and intense as he began his tale. One year ago, his very first encounter with Sephiroth and his first day as the leader of the Turks. Shinra had given him a small contingent of soldiers, and they were supposed to infiltrate Materia production facilities in Wutai. 

Daojia was a tiny city in the eastern mountains of Wutai, and it had been rumored to be the country's Materia production center. It was common knowledge that Wutai had been refining and using Materia longer than any other nation. Professor Gast, the supposed inventor of Materia, had actually studied for a short time in Wutai. He'd never been privy to the exact process they used to refine it; but through simple observation of their product, he had made many correct guesses on how Materia was produced. After years of development, he had perfected his method and allowed Shinra to release and distribute it. 

Though most of the world bought Shinra, Wutanese Materia was always more prized…as it was more effective, and frankly, of a higher quality than Shinra's mass-produced Materia. Better quality, higher priced, and rarely found, Wutanese Materia was in demand. It wasn't soon before they had cut in on Shinra's market. Profits were down twenty percent, and the President was on the warpath. He ordered millions in research and development programs, trying to find out what made Materia from Wutai so damn good. 

Dozens of scientists and millions of Gil later, no one had any idea how it differed from Shinra made Materia. Finally, the President broke down and contacted the Shentso-pao, Wutai's governing body. He begged to know the secret, to let his scientists in and figure out what they did differently. In the interests of international relations, at least that was the line. A Shentso-pao representative had politely refused the request. Their refining techniques were considered a national treasure. 

The _Quo tang-zi lian_, as they called it, in standard the _secret stone technique of the planet_, the knowledge of this technique was considered a gift from the gods.  This gift had been given to a priest in the village of Daojia, hundreds of years ago in appreciation of his benevolence towards the planet. The technique was passed down throughout the generations. Only those who could trace their lineage all the way back, directly to the first priest, could learn the technique. All others were refused, especially nosey foreigners. 

This enraged Shinra, he was furious that Wutai didn't seem to understand who they were dealing with. When Shinra said jump, you said how high? Not, sorry…you're dirty foreigners, and we won't share. An operation was quickly set up to steal the information they wanted and to send Wutai a message. Don't mess with Shinra. 

So Tseng and a bunch of soldiers were sent to Daojia, landing on the beaches in Wutai only to find that they were to sit on their thumbs. R&D wanted to perform a little experiment before they'd be let in. A test for their new pet, the super soldier execs in the company had been crowing about for years. _Sephiroth_.  Tseng remembered reading some shit about him in his last meeting with Rufus. He was the first soldier in Shinra's grand new army. Slightly altered genetically to be stronger, faster, smarter and in all ways better than your average grunt. A cold, emotionless killer, trained from the time he was a boy to obey. The perfect warrior. Shinra's crowning achievement. 

They'd waited for years for a formal field test, what better way to showboat success than this? So they sent their pet into Daojia with orders to recover Wutai's refining secrets. He was supposed to only kill the mayor of the town as a warning. Only supposed to kill anyone else if they resisted. 

By the time Tseng and his troops arrived as backup, flames could be seen flaring up from one of the larger buildings. He strode into the village, his troops following hesitantly. They came to the village square, passing the bodies of at least a dozen villagers on the way. There stood Sephiroth, white hair fluttering in the slight breeze. Tseng watched as he sliced through a villager with a single graceful stroke of his masamune. His pale face expressionless, blood spurting from his victim's throat and staining his porcelain skin. The young man turned, bright green eyes burning in their sockets. He wiped the blood off his cheek, striding towards Tseng and his men. 

The entire village erupted into flames as the fire spread swiftly. A building collapsed suddenly in front of Sephiroth, stranding him on one side of the flames. Tseng was about to act, to shout to his men to find water, but then the impossible happened. The platinum haired youth stepped out of the flames, as if their heat meant nothing to him. Calmly walking forward like he just got out of the shower. 

Tseng stared at him, eyes wide as saucers. Sephiroth looked directly into his eyes, piercing jade meeting dark brown. Tseng could feel the power radiating off Sephiroth, it was a sudden and unexplainable feeling. The knowledge that this man held more power than any other man in the history of the world, and with this power he could do anything he pleased. That there was nothing Shinra could offer him that he couldn't get on his own. He was only working for them as a convenience, because there was nothing else for him to do. _What if one day, there was something better_? _God help us all_….Whatever future lay ahead for Sephiroth, Tseng was sure that pain and death would follow. He could see it in the depths of those cold jade eyes. 

Tseng had demanded an explanation, what had gone so wrong that it ended in this madness? Sephiroth insisted that it wasn't his fault. The villagers resisted. He tried to be reasonable, but they attacked him. So he killed them. _No, he slaughtered them_. Twisted bloodied bodies littered the ground like paper trash. The slowly burning streets ran red with blood. _Men. Women. Children. Hell, anything breathing. All dead_….Tseng had killed a lot of people in his time, in a hundred different ways. Never on this scale. _He was only a man_…._one man, killed a town with over a hundred residents in a few hours with a sword as his only weapon and no Materia. Alone_. The implication in his mind was bone chilling. It was impossible, yet here he stood looking at it. It wasn't that Tseng didn't believe him, he did…but he feared the destruction that followed the boy. More than that, the young man had completely bollixed the entire mission.

At least he couldn't be blamed for the fire. The village elders had panicked and set the town on fire to keep their secrets from the foreign devil. In the end the only thing gained from Daojia had been one Summon Materia and another large unidentified Materia that was broken. Turning a simple mission into a complete cluster fuck. 

To make a bad situation worse, Daojia's destruction had been leaked to the press and threatened to become a P.R. nightmare for Shinra. To justify the viciousness of the attack on Daojia, Shinra news reported that they were hiding weapons of mass destruction. Most people bought it, rallying behind the President as he pronounced an all out war on Wutai. Not that Tseng cared that they covered it up, they'd glossed over that kind of shit before, no big. It was the way they held up Sephiroth as the hero of the day that bothered him. _The man had slaughtered an entire town and was then hailed as hero_...._world's gone nuts_....He made General shortly after the Daojia incident. Which bothered Tseng even more. He took it upon himself to find out more about the General. What was he? Why was he? Because he was more than just mildly genetically altered….That was the biggest bullshit line if he ever heard one. 

Internal espionage. That's what they'd call what he did. Hell, he could get fired for it, but he didn't care. It had been his expertise at this kind of thing that had gotten him where he was today. He'd dug up documents relating to Sephiroth's creation, though they were few and far between. Gathering evidence of _massive_ genetic manipulation, experimental mako injections, and the introduction of distinctly non-human genomes into his body. Sephiroth wasn't really human. Part of him was, but there was alien anatomy writhing within him. Jenova, that was the non-human genome, possibly from an extraterrestrial source....the files were vague and unhelpful on where it came from or what it was. Tseng had tried to track down more about it, but came up empty. He gave up on that thread and went for others. 

The jackpot was finding one of Sephiroth's medical records. It was the standard psychological test given to all Shinra employees before employment. According to the psych test results, Sephiroth was unstable. Suffering from periodic blackouts and loss of memory. He also reported occasionally hearing voices. The notes on the document sent chills down the spine. 

_Subject exhibits extreme antisocial behavior combined with social anxiety. He is suspicious and harbors paranoid ideation. Reports that he often feels empty, leading him to exhibit reckless behavior that is characterized as suicidal. Often has unusual perceptual experiences, i.e. hearing voices, feelings of detachment from the world, etc. This has lead to an unstable view of self, leaving the subject with mixed feelings of superiority/inferiority. He is known to have fits of unreasonable temper, especially when personal issues are brought up. Patient is diagnosed as being a combination Schizotypal/ Borderline personality; though through further testing additional mental defects may be present as well.  Doctor recommendation....Subject's mental health extremely unstable, even disturbed. What is most alarming is his complete lack of empathy, as he seems completely indifferent to suffering, including his own. When angered, subject becomes dangerously hostile. Employment is not recommended._  

It gave Tseng no pleasure to realize that Sephiroth wasn't the perfect warrior they'd been led to believe. He was an abomination. A perverse freak that had no business roaming the world at large. Tseng had never been a spiritual man, but he did believe that there was some order to the universe. Sephiroth had no place in this order. His power was too great, and Tseng could see that it would only lead to more destruction. Millions suffering as the village of Daojia had.  

Reno stared at Tseng in slack jawed astonishment. He wasn't convinced that Aeris was right, but it did give good credence to Tseng's belief that the man was dangerous. 

"So....What does this all mean? For us.....Sephiroth's dangerous....great....He might hurt Aeris.....but what the hell can we do about it? If it's like you say, the guy can take out an entire village. I don't see us standing much of a chance in a fight with him, fair or unfair. So where the hell does that leave us?"

Tseng thought carefully before answering, "Maybe we don't have to fight him....."

"Huh? And how do you come by that decision?" 

Tapping his fingers on his desk, an unusual idea crossed his mind, "Hey....I wonder if Rufus is still up?"

Reno gave him an odd look, annoyed that his superior jumped from thought to thought without cluing him in, "Probably not....Why and who cares? That doesn't have anything to do with the problem at hand...." 

"It has everything to do with it. Rufus isn't a big fan of the General, unlike his father. I think he'd be interested to discuss our views on that job in Nibelheim, don't you?" Tseng replied quietly, a soft smile appearing on his face. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE—

HEY! Just wanted to apologize to y'all for the wait!! I love writing this story, mostly because I have no idea where I'm going with it until it happens. I have to thank all of you who have reviewed! I love you all so much, okay...I know...I'm coming on a little strong, but hey...I wrote this for people to read it!! So thank you!! 

I wrote this chapter for Lucrecia LeVrai, because you seemed so upset at how I characterized Tseng. I sat down and thought to myself, yeah....I did make him puss out, didn't I? So I came up with this chapter to remedy it. Hopefully it fills you with joy!! Plus thanks for puttin' me in your favorites!! 

Big Ups to to Socialist Shaz, Ardwynna Morriqu, Coronis, lovexfool, Anna and Mimi Blossoms Aeris—Your reviews have been life affirming and make this story a frickin' pleasure to write!! 

Also extra special thanks to the Highwaywoman—I wasn't a big Aeris fan either, but she grew on me after awhile. Though have to say, I identify with Tifa more, Aeris is really easy to write! I'm glad that my Fic can capture people who don't normally like Aeris! 

A Huge Frickin' Huggy Bear style thanks to Chocobo Goddess and Lucrecia LeVrai!! An author's best friend is someone who is honest but kind. Thanks for the advice. You two have given me valuable advice on how to make this an awesome story!!  

Alright, I'm done gushing! See ya next update!! Peace and love!!--Noacat


	6. Mountain Mist in Twilight

_Craggy mountain peaks towered over her, giant natural castle turrets through which the sun's rays brightly glimmer. Purple hued mist rising and twining around its spires. Here is where it all begins, doesn't it? Mist erupts into singeing flame, blazing out of control. Screams of the damned echoing in her ears. Screams that won't stop. Screams that will never leave her mind, no matter how hard she tries to block them out. Violent cascades of bright crimson pooling, as the screams continue. Blood that soaks into the very earth, making her as impure a thing as the disease that writhes within her. _Why won't they stop? _Sudden silence comes at her command. Gazing upward, the dreamer gasps at the sky, all lit with stars. They twinkle in the midnight sky, so bright and clear, like diamonds set in deep blue velvet. Never had the sky shown her such beauty, never had she seen with such clarity. There is another with her, a girl, around her own age. Perhaps younger.  This girl, this fighter with long dark hair. She watches the stars as the dreamer does. Her back turned, eyes gazing up at the unknowable heavens. _Promise me you'll come back for me. It's my dream.....for you to rescue me._ A nod. Platinum blonde hair, dyed. Large sword spinning. It's too big for him. _Who am I? Am I SOLDIER_? Pure ocean blue eyes, glowing with mako. _Spiky haired asshole_. _Who the fuck do you think you are? I should....t_he deep baritone tapers off, his voice thickly accented. A towering man with one arm.  A meeting by accident. An explosion. Be watchful  and take heed dreamer_.  _An exhilarating rush as she fell towards the earth, an angel sent from heaven. Wake up_. 

Aeris woke with a start, as if she'd been pushed from a great height and had only just steadied herself. Her eyes languidly adjusting to new wakefulness. She wiped a hand over her face, sighing with resignation. Prophetic dreams like these were a fact of life for her. An annoying part of the whole Cetra package. Still, it never failed to amaze her when she'd have a new dream. Especially if it was as vague as this last one. What the heck was the planet trying to tell her? She was accustomed to its use of dreamlike imagery, but this was beyond merely dreamlike. _What do you want me to see_? She asked. It didn't answer, merely hummed back at her thoughtfully. _Please, I need to understand. Does it have something to do with my other dream?_ The planet buzzed an affirmative. _Please explain more, I don't understand!_  It hummed more softly, giving her indications that it did not intend to answer her. Sending her the image of fate's never-ending string and her own path upon it. The myriad choices she had lying at her feet, and the planet made her feel that it was not its place to help her decide. It was her own choice... that was the burden of being human it told her. It seemed that the planet had given her a riddle and left it to her to figure it out. _Damn it_. 

She was tired of riddles and guesses, tired of bizarre dreams. Tired of it all. More than anything she wanted to be a normal girl. Like any of the other girls she passed on the street every morning. She tried, tried so damn hard to be like everyone else. Tried to look like them, act like them, pretending that she was one of them. _But you're not, are you_? She even tried to have a boyfriend like one of them, but that was just another fiasco in a long line of fiascos. Zack. She hadn't thought of him in ages, and she was sure he hadn't thought of her at all. _Least until he needs money, then I'm the first thing on his mind_. 

Another sigh. _Yet one more dreary morning in Midgar_. Aeris thought back to the day before, and it seemed everyone gave her the same advice. That she ought to leave. Why didn't she? She certainly wasn't happy here. The planet suddenly hummed loudly, its voice so piercing that she held a hand to her temple in pain. No, it wanted her here. Her place was here. _God, I wish it wasn't_. Aeris was feeling very much like she didn't care what the planet wanted. All her life, all she'd cared about were other people, this planet. Never once thinking about herself and what she wanted. It didn't matter to the planet, did it? It could care less what she wanted. Right now she felt like being selfish. What would the planet do if she just left? It could give her a migraine, but right now she didn't care. _Screw this stupid city! Screw this whole horrible planet_! She thought acidly, glancing over at her nightstand. A silver tube lay neatly on the table, glinting in the half light. 

Reno....he'd given it to her. She was supposed to meet him today. Aeris picked up the weapon carefully, feeling its smooth surface with the palms of her hands. She fingered the little button he'd pointed out and pushed it. The weapon flicked out, extending into a full-length metal staff. It was a simple weapon, but elegant in its own way. She thought of Reno's face as he gave it to her, the small hint of joy in his jaded features. He was a Turk, a hired assassin but he never seemed like that to her. She could never see him that way. Not when he'd smile innocently and treat her like a younger sister. 

What about Mr. Fennyman? He too had an odd look of childlike joy whenever she came around. Aeris remembered the first time she'd meet him. Old grouchy Mr. Fennyman, the kind of crotchety elderly man that most took care to avoid. She'd been selling her flowers in front of his store, because she'd been kicked off the corner she normally stood at. The drug store seemed an obvious choice at the time, it was so busy and she'd figured that she could sell a lot of flowers there. Aeris had been standing there less than ten seconds and Mr. Fennyman had come out, hollering and flapping his short arms. 

"No Peddlers allowed! Move it along!" He squawked at her, his face puffy and bloated with anger. 

Aeris turned to look at him, large green eyes sparkling with wide-eyed innocence, "I'm sorry. I'll leave. I apologize for upsetting you."

She had said it so sweetly, that it had touched the old man's heart. He looked at the girl, long chestnut hair bound by a large pink ribbon. Her face bright and chubby with a child's enthusiasm, and how easily she smiled. It had reminded him of his daughter when she was younger. Before she'd grown up and moved away four years ago, forgetting to visit her old dad, even on holidays. 

"No....Um....Wait. You sell flowers, right?"

She nodded, her ponytail bouncing neatly behind her. The old man looked over this strange young girl. Dressed in bright pink, with the most disarmingly beautiful smile he'd ever seen. So unlike every other person in the city, a ray of hope in the midst of darkness. What in the world was someone like her doing here? 

"Well, I suppose you might be good for business.....you can stay." Mr. Fennyman smiled for the first time in four years. 

From that day forward Aeris had sold her flowers at that drug store. Mr. Fennyman was a first a rather reluctant friend. However, over time, he'd grown quite attached to Aeris. Helping her build her display stand, inviting her and her mother to dinner, things he'd never done before he met her. She had a gentle way about her, bringing out whatever kindness that he'd locked deep inside. Midgar did that to people, setting hard shells of pitiless stone where compassion used to be. Aeris had been the cure and he'd even said as much to her. 

What of her adopted mother, Elmyra? The woman had been so kind to her, despite the fact that they shared no blood relation. Treating her like a daughter and not a charity case. Aeris thought back to the scattered memories of her childhood. How Elmyra tried so hard to make every day a happy one for her, before she got sick. Dancing in the rain on the top plate, laughing and running as if they were the freest souls on the planet. The times when Elmyra would let her bake by herself, always smiling when she bit into the newest creation. No matter how bad it turned out. The nights she'd read stories to the young girl, to help ease her into sleep. Comforting arms that held her when her dreams got bad. Good advice when she needed it. She'd always been there, even though she didn't understand what Aeris was going through.

"Would you leave them alone in this rubbish heap? Would you abandon her to this city? She could have done the same to you, but she didn't." 

Aeris looked up, startled to see the ghostly vision of her mother standing in the middle of her dark room. "Mama!? What're you...."

"The planet was worried. Your thoughts have been dark of late. So it sent me to you. I cannot stay long..... You wish for the planet to provide answers, but in truth there are none."

"Buh-BUT IT HAS TO!! WHY?"

"Only the fates know and they tell no one but themselves. The power behind our planet is not infinite, nor is it omnipotent. It can only give you different options to help you choose the right path. But ultimately, it is your decision that will guide you. That is why it sends you the dreams. To help you find the best path."

"Really? How does that explain the visions of my death? This planet wants my life, and I'd like to know why in the hell I should give it so easily!?"

"The planet does not want your life, but if the spawn of Jenova acquires ultimate destruction, all that you have seen shall come to pass. _That_ is a vision of possibility and a warning. However, if you can stop her puppet before she has taken hold of him, there is a slim chance that fate's design can be defied."

"Her puppet?" Aeris's brow knit as she thought, suddenly remembering the young man she'd seen yesterday, "That boy....with the white hair. Sephiroth? Is he her puppet?"

"Yes."

"So how do I stop Jenova from....doing whatever she's going to do? She hasn't done it already, has she?"

Ifalna shook her head, "No. The planet has told me that the evil resides in the mist on high, and it will give birth soon. I regret that I don't know more." 

"What's the right path to take? Should I seek him out? It's just, I'm so scared. He frightens me......" Aeris stammered, trying to sound much more adult than she felt. 

"I know you are scared. I'm sorry this burden has been placed on you. I had always thought it would be mine to bear, but fate does as she pleases. I can only pray that somehow you will find a way. This is the planet's wish as well, we both pray for you. It loves you as much as I. Please, don't give up. The planet said that you needn't worry ....that....." her mother stopped, her illusory form fading a little, "I'm sorry, Aeris....My time is up, the planet can no longer hold me here......I have to go.....I love you....."  Ifalna smiled sadly, the soft vision of her body disappearing like morning mist in the afternoon sun. 

Aeris fell off the bed with a loud thump, reaching a desperate hand out as she felt hot tears flow down her face, "MAMA! WAIT!"  

In the dim light she wept, her sobs echoing through the silent house. The sound had awakened her adoptive mother, who painfully made her way to Aeris's room. Hobbling with cane in hand, she entered to see her daughter weeping on the floor. How many times had this scene been repeated to her? _Too many_...was all that came to mind. 

"Aeris, sweetie.... What's wrong?" Elmyra waited, getting nothing but more baleful sobs, "Did you have another dream?"

The girl nodded shakily, pulling her hands over her face as she cried harder. Elmyra sighed and stooped down carefully, wrapping her arms around her shaking adoptive daughter. She made soft cooing sounds, gently stroking the girl's hair as she rocked her back and forth. Elmyra wished she could just tell her that it was alright. That it was nothing more than a dream, and she should just ignore it. She'd learned long ago such common words were never soothing to someone like Aeris. Her dreams had never been the normal fleeting effluence of the mind. The girl had dreamed her husband's death and not two days later she'd gotten the telegram. How in the world would okay suffice? What possible comfort could it bring to someone who carried such visions? Aeris began to quiet down a little, her breathing returning to normal as she clung to her mother. 

"So, Is there anything I can do? Can you tell me what you dreamed about or....won't I understand?"

"I don't know..... _I'm_ not even sure what I dreamed about....."

"Sure seemed to upset you, though."

"They always do. I wish I was normal...." Aeris said despondently, laying her head on her mother's shoulder.

Elmyra gasped, "Don't even say that, Aeris!! I love you just the way you are. The gods gave you a special gift....and they gave you this gift for a reason. Whatever it is, even if you don't like it, it sets you apart from all the ignorant and hateful people in this world. You're my ray of light. The world needs you....I need you." The statement was simple and true. 

Aeris bit her lip in thought, "I need you too, Mom..... I guess I'm just scared. I...I feel so alone."

"Aeris, you're never alone. I may not understand, but I'll always be here for you. We've both been through worse, and we'll get through it together. I love you, sweetie....Be brave...and hey....What's that??" Elmyra paused to stare at the large staff still sitting on Aeris's bed.

Aeris's eyes went wide as she cursed her own stupidity. She'd forgotten to retract it. _Dang it_.... She tried to think, but nothing came to mind and she began to stutter, "It's-it's-it's....a....." 

"A weapon...." Elmyra said, exasperation entering her voice, "I thought I told that damn Zack that I didn't want him giving you things like that. He knows about my objections to weapons of any kind!! That does it! Aeris, I don't want you seeing him any more, he's a bad influence....."

"Well....it wasn't exactly from him."

"Who? Oh god..... it's from the Turk, isn't it!? That makes it ten times worse, throw it out!" 

"Wait! I mean, you might not like him....but there's a good reason he gave it to me!"

"And that would be...." Elmyra looked at her doubtfully. 

Aeris searched her mind for a quick answer, "There's been an increase in muggings lately. Reno...That's his name, the Turk's name and...um....he....was worried about me."

"WORRIED ABOUT YOU! THE MAN HUNTS YOU FOR A LIVING!!"

"Well, he doesn't ever catch me! Frankly, I think he's protecting me.... though he never really says as much. Plus, he's right. Midgar is dangerous for a girl like me, having something to protect myself wouldn't be that horrible an idea." Aeris waited for a moment, watching her mother's face struggle with thought, "He said he'd help me learn how to use it....." She said, her voice hopeful.

"Yeah, then he'd get you alone and drag you off, hand you straight to Shinra, and then where'd you be?" 

"But.... There was this creepy guy yesterday, and Reno promised to protect me... I was really scared and he took me out to dinner last night to make me feel better!! He even walked me to the train to make sure I got there okay! And he's going to walk me to work today, he's sort of like my body guard now....Besides, its not like I'm going out with him..... and I have materia now....which means magic. I may not know how to fight, but magic is no problem......"  Aeris batted her eyes at her mother, pleadingly. 

Elmyra wrinkled her nose in disgusted, making a click of displeasure as she answered, "Dinner?! Oh, Aeris.....What is it with you and bad boys? Why can't you go out with a nice proper young man, instead of these ruffians you hang out with all the time?" 

"MOOOOM! I said I wasn't going out with him!! He's just a friend..... sort of. Besides, I'd go out with good boys if there were any in Midgar. That's why I need the staff, to beat 'em off.....So, PLEEEEEASE can I keep it!!??" 

"Oh, Fine. If Reno teaches you. And if you take my can of mace, in the event he tries anything." 

"I will, I promise!! Thanks Mom!" Aeris smiled sweetly, giving her mother a quick peck on the cheek. 

She stood up happily, extending her hand to help her mother up off the floor. The two women walked slowly downstairs, as Aeris had to help her mother. A few years ago, Elmyra had been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Everyday since she had gotten worse, loosing more of the fine motor control of her limbs each day. Aeris had tried her best to help, but there was only so much the girl could do. At least her daughter had managed to prolong her good health a little. Holding tightly onto Aeris's arm, they made it down the stairs and into the living room without incident. Aeris guided her to a large and comfy looking easy chair, holding her hand until she was sure her mother was seated comfortably. Elmyra sat, while Aeris quickly got dressed and made breakfast for the both of them. Just before she was to leave, her mother waved her hands at her to stop, as she was too busy eating breakfast to speak. Aeris paused and waited for her mother to finish her food. 

"Mmf....Wait.... Before you go..." Elmyra pointed at the closet, "In there.... Your present. I was _going_ to give it to you yesterday but you came home so late." 

Aeris winced, fully feeling the weight of her mother's guilt trip. "Sorry..."

Elmyra laughed at her daughter, "Dear, you take life to seriously sometimes. Now go and get your present, silly goose." 

The young girl stuck her tongue out at her mother, turning to open the closet door to retrieve her present. She pulled out a box, neatly wrapped in last Sunday's comics page. Smiling at her mother's resourcefulness, Aeris carefully pull off the bright wrapping. She pried off the top of the box and began to rummage through the tissue paper lining. Pushing it back to revel a delicate pink silk strapless dress. Aeris held it up, feeling the soft fabric between her fingers. Pearl buttons shining brightly, trailing down the entire length of the dress.

"Oh....Mom.... Is it real silk?" She gasped, hoping that her mother hadn't gone that out of the way to make a dress just for her. 

"No.... too expensive. It's synthetic. There's more."

Aeris set the dress aside, pushing back more of the tissue. At the very bottom of the box was the last part of her present. A magenta bolero jacket, made out of cotton with metal accents. She put a hand to her mouth. There was a jacket just like this one that she'd had her eye on for a long time. It had hung in one of the expensive dress shops she passed everyday. She remembered telling her mother about it, lamenting that she'd never be able to buy something so nice. 

"Mom, this is too much!! How much did you pay for all this?"

Elmyra laughed again, "Oh, don't worry. I made it myself. Cost me practically nothing. Besides, you're growing into a beautiful young lady. You deserve to have something nice to wear that makes you feel pretty. I know how hard it is here. This city is so ugly. Sometimes I think it makes you feel that way about yourself. That ugliness sinking right into your skin. I want to make sure you know exactly what a rare flower you are. My beautiful little butterfly, my faerie child....." She smiled wistfully, sharing a silent moment with the young girl before she began again, "But don't you go wearing it right away. It's a summer dress, and it's much too cold to wear now."

"AW! No fair!! You give me this gorgeous dress and I can't even wear it!!! That is SO unfair!!"

"Alright, alright. You can wear it, but only if you wear your real coat over it. And for heaven's sake, don't get it dirty. Now quick go and try it on! Let's see how it looks!" 

Aeris darted off excitedly, returning not five minutes later with the dress on. Elmyra gasped, in true awe of her adoptive daughter's beauty. When she had seen the pattern at the fabric shop, she had immediately thought of Aeris. It really did suit her. Feminine yet not too fussy and frilly. Practical yet charmingly beautiful. Perfectly encapsulating the aura that made Aeris so special. Elmyra felt tears welling, and she put a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry. Aeris spun around happily, watching her dress puff out around her. She had completely ignored her mother, looking over at her mid-spin. 

"Ma, you okay?" Aeris asked, hurrying to the older woman's side almost immediately. 

"Yes.... It's just, you're so beautiful. Happy Birthday.....I love you so much." 

"Thanks.....Thank you, Mom....I love you too." 

The two women sat together for a moment, holding each other while they cried. Aeris buried her head in her adoptive mother's arms, just glad for the simplicity of human affection. 

Reno waited, and waited, and waited and waited. Standing outside Sector five's abandoned church, he lit up a cigarette and prepared to wait some more. She was late. Fifteen minutes late to be exact. He looked at his watch again, his eyes nervously darting from it to the street. After last night's conversation with Tseng, Reno was quite rattled. He hadn't slept as much as he wanted either. _Where the fuck is she_?? Glancing down at his watch for the hundredth time. 

He felt a sharp tug at the back of his head as someone yanked his ponytail hard. Reno instinctively spun around, pulling his gun from its holster and brandishing it at his unknown assailant. The muzzle of the weapon confronting startled viridian eyes. Aeris stared down the barrel of the gun, wide eyes looking up at Reno with uncertainty. Placid azure flickering with momentary panic. 

"OH! SHIT! FUCK! SHIT! DAMN! I'm sorry Aeris....it's just...I thought.... I didn't know it was you!!" Reno stumbled over the words, trailing off as he felt unable to come up with a good enough excuse for pulling a gun on her. He quickly holstered it, smiling sheepishly at her. 

"And who'd you think it was? Black market hair thieves? Better watch out...I've got scissors!!!" She grinned, her hands held like a pair of furiously snipping scissors. 

"I said I was sorry, GEESH!" He barked, his voice boyishly embarrassed, "Anyway.... You should be the one apologizing, not me!"

"Why?" 

"For bein' late!! I was about to call Tseng up and send out a search party!!"

"Really?" She said, interested and amused at the same time, "So what's with the sudden change?? Yesterday, you were barely willing to believe me. Now you're the original Mr. Jumpy."

"Found some things out. That's all you have to know. That, and I'll protect you. Both me and Tseng. We won't let that bastard touch you." 

He looked over at the girl next to him, his hard eyes softening just a little. She reminded him so much of his little sister. They chatted amiably the entire way to Mr. Fennyman's. Perhaps one of the first times they hadn't argued when in each other's company. Reno made sure to be extra nice to her, he even curbed his swearing. He wanted to make sure she was relaxed, to let her know that nothing was going to happen to her, because he'd make sure. He had told her he'd be watching. That she ought to go through her day like nothing was different. She had nothing at all to worry about, because he was near, even if she couldn't see him. So he watched her the entire day from a secluded spot. Nothing had happened, and Reno had become bored and nervous. He hadn't had a cigarette in four hours and he was hungry. Still, watching Aeris wasn't all that bad. He supposed he could have had it worse. 

A young man with black hair approached her stand, dressed as an elite SOLDIER. Reno narrowed his eyes, the boy suddenly piquing his interest. As he watched, the SOLDIER picked a fight with Aeris. Their conversation fast and furious, an unhappy frown on the young girl's face. She stood, green eyes flashing, jabbing her finger at the boy. He gestured back wildly, and Reno could hear him shout something at her, but the words and meaning were garbled. The SOLDIER grabbed her by the arm and roughly began to drag her into a nearby alleyway. Ice filled Reno's veins as his emotions drained from his body. 

He remembered why he'd joined the Turks. His sister. Her murder. The fact that the bastard had gotten off on a technicality. She was such a bright and trusting girl. Sweet, like Aeris. The kind of soul that didn't belong in a wasteland like this. She'd been raped and then strangled, and worst of all, mutilated after death. The things he did to her. They had to have a closed casket. Couldn't exactly say goodbye to the parts of her they found. Cold. Sweeping numbness overwhelmed him. He thought back to the night after the verdict. How he hunted that bastard down. Found his family, and waited for him to come home. How he tied the mother fucker to a chair and made him choose which of his three children he'd kill first. Reno had briefly thought about leaving him alive with the pain, but the bullet he put through the bastard's brain had been too satisfying. 

Apparently, Reno hadn't been the only one hunting the murderer, that's what he called him. Bastard's name meant nothing. Someone else had put a hit on him. Hired the Turks to do it. It was then and there, as he stood over the body of his enemy, soaked in blood, that he'd become a Turk. Never looked back. 

"Get off me, Zack! LET ME GO! OW! YOU'RE HURTING ME!"

"Why?" He smirked, "Don't you love me anymore?"

"I should ask you that! How dare you come back after three months and not a single call and expect me to give you money! What the hell is wrong with you!!" Aeris snarled, trying to sound like she wasn't afraid. 

"You wound me Aeris. I love you.....Maybe....I want more than just money...." Zack smiled cruelly, pinning her arms against the alley's wall. 

"Zack.....What.....Please..." Aeris gasped, her eyes becoming suddenly desperate as he leaned in to her. 

His lips connecting in a firm and unloving kiss. She struggled against him, his grip shifting. Pinning her down with one hand, so he could free the other. His hand slipping over her breast and squeezing it hard. She squealed in pain, all the while struggling in vain. Hot wet tears pouring down her cheeks as he unbuttoned the top of her dress. _Please don't_......Zack's eyes went wide, and he broke contact with her to turn around. He screamed abruptly and fell to the ground twitching. 

Aeris looked at Zack's convulsing body, slowly moving up to gaze at her savior. Reno stood over her ex-boyfriend; a large metal pipe of some sort slung over one shoulder brashly. She stepped forward, a small smile on her face but then stopped. His gaze met hers, and it was so cold. The Reno in front of her was not the friend she had gotten to know. His face was set, as if made of granite. Eyes blankly murderous. No wonder so many people feared the Turks. She had never taken him seriously, never. 

"Reno....Thank....you..." 

He looked at her levelly, his voice emotionless, "Aeris, I want you to leave now."

She looked at Zack again, slowly realizing what Reno was going to do, "No...."

"Aeris...." He replied, a warning note in his voice.

"No....." once again, she tried to be brave but failed miserably. 

"Aeris. LEAVE NOW!" He barked, the tone in his voice frightening her. 

She hastily buttoned her dress, looking up nervously at Reno. She crossed over to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. In an instant, she understood,  "Please.....promise me you won't kill him."

Reno replied softly, "He almost raped you."

"Don't kill him." Her deep green eyes looking at him with sincerity, "Too much blood stains your soul.....I don't want you to....and someone....._She_ wouldn't want you to. Understand?"  

Somehow, he knew that she had seen. All of it. _Damn you Aeris, why do you always have to be so understanding_? Just like his sister, willing to forgive. He nodded, his cold gaze momentarily wavering, "Fine..... I won't." 

Aeris composed herself and left the alley, leaving Reno and Zack alone. The frost returned and Reno smiled joylessly at the waking soldier. Zack woke with a soft moan, cupping the back of his head in pain. The SOLDIER stood, groggily swaying back and forth as he tried to clear the fog in his head. 

"I was hoping it wasn't going to be that easy." Reno twirled the metal pipe in his hands, absently swinging it into the small of the SOLDIER's back. 

The boy stumbled and hugged the wall desperately. His eyes stealing a glance at his enemy's uniform. _Blue suit, sunglasses, white shirt_...."Yuh-yu-you're a Turk. Why?"

"Lots of reasons. Foremost in my mind....my unbridled hate for pig fuckers like you. She's what? Half your height? A _real_ challenge....So I'm wonderin'....You like fighting girls or are you just too pussy to fight a man....bitch?" 

"Fuck you. I'm re-reporting you to...." the boy paused as his vision cleared, eyes widening in alarm as he recognized the man in front of him. _Reno_...he and Tseng were almost as feared and famous at the Great General himself. _How the hell did Aeris meet someone like him? Fuck_...."You're him. The Red Devil...."

"Yeah, I've been called that. Stupid name, don't you think?"  Reno paused as he twirled the pipe around again, "You know. You're lucky."

"Why?" The boy slurred, shaking his head as he staggered. 

"She's the reason you're going to live." He smiled, metal pipe whishing menacingly in the air,  "Know what this thing is?" The soldier switched to his best defensive stance, "It's one of Shinra's new little toys. EMR...Electro-Mag rod. Neat little weapon. They give us all the cool stuff to do field tests on."  Reno flipped a switch, twin tines of the EMR sparkling to life. "This is gonna be fun." 

Author's Notes—

Hey, Y'all!! Nice to be back. Sorry 'bout the gap between posts. I have to wait 'till inspiration strikes, don't want my chapters to be sucking. I have to apologize for the lack of Sephy action. Don't worry, our silver haired chum'll be back soon. Just gotta come up with the right set up. I'm glad I get to show a different side of Reno here. Next chapter I'm thinkin' we get to see electro-mag fun!! WHEE! Zack gets zapped. I never did like him. Yeah, he played a small role, but he totally used Aeris. So, I get my revenge!! It is terrible, no?? Okay, no....but humor me already. Thanks to my reviewers. I love you all, with big silly butterfly kisses! Not sure when the next update'll be. Hopefully, sooner than this one. It all depends on if I have a good idea for next chapter and I get adequate time to write it properly. Happy reading, I'll see y'all next chapter! 

CIAO!—Noacat. 


	7. Memory's Trailing Remembrance

Aeris reluctantly stepped out of the dark alleyway into the crisp February afternoon. She looked back into the darkened corridor, trying not to think about what was happening back there. Though she didn't move from the spot, listening in near silence, rewarded with only an occasional grunt. Closing her eyes sadly, Aeris began to cry. Why did her days always end this way? With tears. She was tired of shedding them. The cruelty of this world had overwhelmed her. How could she save such a place, where people hurt for no reason and comfort was given so rarely. 

It hadn't always been like this. She remembered a time when despair didn't play so heavily on her heart. When hope came easily to her and she didn't grasp desperately for reasons to be optimistic. Truthfully, she realized that her brightest times had been when she was with Zack. Somehow, their time together had briefly melted her worries away. 

She had met him almost a year and a half ago, on a rainy mid-summer evening. The storm had come out of nowhere, instantly drenching the unprepared city in a curtain of water. Usually she had anticipated these kinds of things, but that day she'd been off. She hadn't felt well and had been plagued for the last few weeks with an unseasonable flu. 

When the first drops began to hit she'd hurriedly packed up, just finishing up as the storm got its land legs. She said a quick goodbye to Mr. Fennyman and scuttled towards the train station. The clouds chose then to let loose their burden. As cold drops of rain pelted her, she ran as fast as she could all the while holding a hand up to shield her eyes. Within a few seconds her clothes were soaked, clinging to her skin unhelpfully. All she could do was keep running, feet slapping on the wet ground. She wasn't really looking where she was going. Only concentrating on reaching the station as fast as she could. She ran headlong into a young man running in the opposite direction, nearly falling over as she had with Reno. 

He had been so sweet then. Apologizing profusely and repeatedly asking if she was okay. Aeris had assured him she was, wanting nothing more than to get out of the rain. She had told him as much and he'd just laughed. 

"What? Worried about getting wetter?" he teased, gesturing at the torrential downpour. 

It had made her laugh, he was right of course. What was the sense in running from the rain when it'd already soaked her to the bone. He was so handsome. Dark midnight hair, set off by the deepest pair of violet blue eyes she'd ever seen. It was the first time she'd seen eyes tainted by Mako up close. She had been entranced by it. Unable to take her own eyes from his, gazing raptly into their strange luminescence. 

"What am I? A freak show?" 

She blushed, he was teasing her again and she laughed. Both had become unaware of their current situation, attention solely on each other. Aeris tentatively asked him about his eyes and whether or not he was SOLDIER. He nodded; a somewhat cocky but irrepressibly cute smile crossed his face. In fact, it was his first day as a full-fledged member of the elite squad. He was on his way to tell his parents when he'd bumped into her. With amiable glee he recounted this story to her. Aeris listened politely, wondering why someone like him would talk to her. She was a simple girl from the slums. He was destined to live up on the plate, his privilege as a member of SOLDIER. 

"Hey, what's the matter?"

"Nothing.....I should go..." She whispered. 

"Why? It's beautiful out!" 

She smiled weakly, he was teasing again. Didn't he understand? Couldn't he tell by her clothes and her manner what she was? 

"It's just...."

"What? You're from the slums.....who cares! The most beautiful flowers are found in the wildest places...." He said gently, Mako eyes softening as he gazed at her. 

She remembered how hard her heart had beat at that moment. Looking into those bright blue eyes, barely able to move or speak. Aeris wondered now how many girls had gotten that line, but then, she'd been impressed. Flattered even. Her mother had always called attention to her beauty, but that's what a mother was supposed to do. This was the first time a young man had done so. Most were too intimidated to say one word to her, let alone a compliment. 

A delicate smile formed on her lips and she was about to thank him. A booted foot kicked out into a large puddle, splashing her mid-sentence. Aeris gaped for a moment and frowned. She splashed him back playfully. Both of them returning splashes until they were breathless with laughter, dancing in the downpour. It was a magical moment, one that she had treasured for so long but had recently forgotten. 

It had been the two of them from that moment on. Her mother of course disapproved, as Zack was SOLDIER and in her eyes nothing but a Shinra lackey. Aeris knew differently. Many times over the last few months had she examined her decision. Coming to the same conclusion every time, that at one time, Zack had really loved her. Even if it was only fleeting. 

For six blissful months they were together, and Aeris had believed that she'd found her true love. They spent every spare moment together. She was busy with her flowers and he with his work in SOLDIER. Somehow they managed to find time for each other. She loved the time she spent with him and never in her life had she had as much fun. They went to movies, plays, arcades, coffee shops. 

Strange irony that he always brought her flowers, even though she didn't really need him to. In every way he was so sweet to her. She could remember a thousand wonderful conversations with him. He took her to the Midgar Botanical Gardens once. They had a picnic lunch on the lawn. She'd never forget sitting there eating a sandwich he'd made himself, while lovely mid-day sun filtered through the cathedral-like glass ceiling of the greenhouse. He made her laugh so hard that day, made her laugh everyday. It was his special gift, something that no one else had been able to do. 

Aeris smiled wistfully at those forgotten memories, wondering where they had gone. Everyday with Zack had been a new adventure. He made her feel free, like she wasn't tethered to this gruesome fate she dreamt of. She loved him with all her heart. Though there was always something holding her back from giving him everything and he felt it. 

In their entire time together, she'd never kissed him on the lips. She'd turn away when he tried, only giving him the occasional kiss on the cheek. He had figured she was just shy, but it still needled him underneath all his understanding. A few months down the road and the first few small spats began. Ending up in a large and ugly fight just before he was shipped off to Wutai. Aeris had deeply regretted leaving him with that as his last memory of her. What if he never came back? What if he didn't even write her? What if. What if. What if. 

Three weeks later she'd received an apologetic note from him and she had thought the worst was over. For the next three months she'd receive regular letters from him. Though as time passed, they came less and less frequently. By the end of his tour of duty, they'd stopped altogether. Whether it was because he didn't want to write or couldn't,  She didn't know. A thousand scenarios played in her head. Aeris shut out the what ifs. She didn't cry. Holding hope in her heart. Shunning newspapers and television, anything that reminded her of the war and Wutai. It reminded her of Zack, and the possibility that something horrible had happened to him. 

Besides she always reasoned with herself. If he was dead, she'd know. She always did. Being the last ancient she would have felt his spirit join with the life stream. And she hadn't felt it, so it must mean he was okay. But her human heart still worried unreasonably.  Nearing his seventh month away, she finally received a letter. He had been wounded badly, a machine gun had nearly gutted him. The last few months had been spent in recovery and they were finally sending him home. 

When he came back, Zack was a changed man. No more jokes, no more goofy wide eyed smiles. His eyes were cold and dead, despite the brilliant Mako glow. He started to drink heavily. Aeris had tried to get him to talk about it, never getting a single word out of him. They fought constantly. Their last fight he'd been incredibly drunk and he hit her. She'd had enough and left him. For a time he came to beg money off her and she complied. The last time. She didn't want to remember, only acknowledging it was the last time she'd help him destroy himself.  Now it seemed it wouldn't be exactly the last time she'd help him. 

If the planet had put her here for a purpose, it couldn't just be for her to die. Aeris stared contemplatively at the sky, the sun winking in and out of the clouds. Her eyes were draw downwards inexplicably. At her feet stood the tiniest pink trillium she'd ever seen. She cocked her head, bending down to examine the living jewel. What in the world was a trillium doing in Midgar in the middle of February? Trilliums were rarely seen in Midgar, Aeris had only ever seen pictures of them in wild flower guides. The plants themselves were incredibly delicate; they didn't tolerate cold or pollution. Only growing in the deep underbrush in woodland areas, far away from places like the slums of Midgar. Was this a message from the planet? Yes, she decided, it was. Fingering the flower's petal softly, Aeris made her resolve. 

What in her had changed at that moment, not a one could guess. Perhaps it was thinking of all that she had lost already. Knowing that she wasn't willing to lose anything else. She was like this flower. Delicate, not suited for this harder world, but somehow she had to make her place. That if she didn't start standing up and fighting her own battles, how could she possibly do her duty? Her duty to the planet. It had given her so much and as of late she'd rarely thought about it. Meditating on trivial matters of self. She wanted to become that woman in the future. Who was still scared to die, but unafraid to face her future. 

Aeris reached into her pocket and pulled out her staff, flicking the release button. In a flash the small metal tube became a four foot long metal rod. Her staff...her weapon. Her decision to fight. Pulling out the case the staff came in, she opened it and took out the three starter materia found in the box. Clicking the little glowing orbs into place, Aeris readied herself. She wouldn't let Zack or Reno hurt each other. Wouldn't let either of them die just because she was too damn weak. 

She strode into the alleyway she'd just left, eyes harder than they'd ever been before. For a moment she stopped, watching the death game play out in front of her. To the casual observer it, such as Aeris, it looked like nothing more than a common street brawl. In fact, it was anything but. Both men were incredibly skilled, and had battled each other to a rather annoying stalemate. 

To Reno's complete and utter dismay, the SOLDIER wasn't unarmed as he had supposed. Zack had come prepared with his enormous Buster sword, leaving Reno wondering how he missed it. The boy had managed to break his EMR, and now he was forced to fight bare hand against a sword. Sure, it wasn't the best, but it was much better than no weapon at all. Just before Aeris had stepped back in, Reno managed to dislodge the boy's hold and throw it out of reach. Nothing he hated more than unfair advantages, unless they were in his favor, of course. For the last twenty minutes they'd spent their time "sparring", though no one who knew better would call it that. Tired, bruised, and cut, they were both a mess. Too stubborn to stop while they still had their lives. Even Aeris could see it, that they'd both fight until they dropped from sheer exhaustion. 

It made he so damn mad. _Men_, she hissed underneath her breath. With a flick of her hands she whipped out her staff, holding it in both hands tightly. Aeris closed her eyes and prayed to the planet, imploring it to give her strength. Bright green eyes snapped open, the normal spark of life in her eyes unnaturally evident. She released the staff, letting it hover in mid-air for a moment before she struck. With a slight push she sent a wave of purifying energy towards the two men. Little beads of purple light surrounded them, strands of indigo trailing over their bodies like silken manacles. They stopped for a moment, wondering where the light came from. 

"Aeris...." said Reno, questioningly. 

Her eyes swirled sea foam and viridian, awake to the true power of life. With no hesitation, she uttered the restraining spell, "Aku ryo tai san....." 

The light that seemed so innocuous before entered the warriors and put a quick end to their senseless fighting. Neither man could move, nor could they speak. She had rendered them as still as stone. Their eyes pleaded with Aeris, asking questions, uttering curses. All she could do was smile sweetly, which she was sure just infuriated them even more. 

"I suppose you're both wondering why I did that?" Aeris paused, stifling a giggle because neither could answer, "I don't feel I need to explain everything, but....I just think we're all here for a purpose. I'm pretty sure the both of you haven't filled yours yet...and the planet seems to agree with me." She turned to Zack, "I'm letting you go first...but before I do...a warning. What I did here is only a quarter of what I can do. I've been patient up to now...but if you ever try that again, you'll regret it. You will leave and I will never see you again...correct?"  

With a snap of her fingers she released her hold on Zack. He stood there for a moment, rather stunned that his ex had that much power. No wonder the Turk was protecting her, Shinra wanted her for something. He eyed her, concluding that the Turks probably wanted to recruit her. With magic that strong, she'd be quite an asset to the company. Either that or they wanted her for research and development. Zack shook his head. _No, they better not want her for that_. Hojo, the head of R and D, was a certified nut case. Zack had some strings he could pull that would keep Aeris out of his hands for a long time if that was the truth. He decided to ask her the most logical thing his newly sober mind could think of. Gods, how he'd missed her. 

"....What are you?"

"Very annoyed." 

"I-I'm sorry, Aeris....I'm leaving for Nibelheim at the end of the week anyway, on permanent assignment. I wish...I'm so sorry...I...." Something in Zack broke that moment. Knowing what he had lost and a small part of him knowing where he was going. He knew that he'd never see her again. 

"No need. I wish things could have worked out better for us....." 

Zack quietly picked up his sword, giving Aeris a last glance. In the last few years, he'd been nothing but a pain to her. How could he tell her what happened to him? Explain to her about the blood and the guts and all the death he'd seen and dealt. There was no way. So he hid it from her and everyday it killed him a little more. _She would have understood, you idiot. She always understood_. _Damn_.  Looking at her, he'd forgotten how extraordinarily beautiful she was. He knew she would be his one big regret. The best thing he ever had that he stupidly let slip away. Someday, he'd make it up to her. He was about to turn and leave, when she came up to him and gave him a hug. Her gentle green eyes staring up at him, radiating forgiveness that he didn't deserve. 

"Take care, Zack. I'll be praying for you."

"You too Aeris....watch that guy, he's trouble."

Zack gave her a cursory wave before he left the alleyway. Once Aeris was sure he was gone, she released a very angry Reno. He stumbled out of his still pose, immediately shouting once he regained his voice. His first impulse was to take after Zack, despite the fact that he knew the boy was long gone. Half-knowingly, he paced the entryway to the alley, screaming and gesticulating like a two year old throwing a tantrum. 

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT! THAT COCK-SUCKER ALMOST RAPED YOU! THE FUCKING GALL TO SAY I'M FUCKING TROUBLE! FUCK YOU, YOU NUTLESS BASTARD! YOU EVER COME BACK I'LL WEAR YOUR BALLS FOR A HAT!! YOU SON OF A BITCH! I FUCKING WELL HOPE YOU...."

"Shut up Reno..." Aeris said with a warning tone in her voice.

Reluctantly, he calmed down. Panting quietly to gain some semblance of composure before he spoke, "Yeah, thank you too....What the hell was that all about? Seriously? I might be trouble but that Bastard's dangerous. Why'd you let him go?"

She smiled softly, "Like I said. He has a purpose on this earth...we all do. If I'm the planet's shepherd, gotta keep the sheep in line. Besides, I didn't want anyone to die needlessly." 

Reno snorted, grumbling, ".....I don't think it'd be needless....and I'm not a sheep...." 

"Yes, it would be." Aeris smiled, "And thank you, for being so protective. I don't want to think about where I'd be without you." And with that, she gave him a big hug. Drawing away slowly to give him a soft peck on the cheek. "You earned that." 

Reno blushed as crimson as his own hair, which made Aeris laugh so hard she nearly choked. He took it on the chin, though he insisted on staying with her the rest of the day. No more hiding in the shadows. He wanted to be where ever she was, just in case there was more trouble. Aeris didn't believe that excuse one bit, despite the fact that it was quite true. She teased him the entire afternoon, the big scary Turk who gets all freaked out by a simple kiss. Reno didn't have the courage to tell her it meant more to him than that. He was a ladies man, loved women all the time and in various positions. But he'd never really cared for them, the exception was Aeris and his little sister. _The only two girls in this rotten world who deserve it_....his little sisters. In lavender hued evening they walked, barely noticing the light fall of snow that powdered the world in a translucent glow as they headed for the small church.

  
Author's notes--  
I betcha thought I forgot about this one!! Nope, I didn't. I'm just uber busy, so I can't update quite as often. Wedding and all that....yaddayaddayadda. Well, ENJOY! 


	8. Golgotha

--_It spoke to me in my own voice, letting me believe I was hearing my own conscience. I was losing sight of my own reasons, so I was weak. It just took over, and I let it happen.---I've relinquished control of my insanity_.

            --JTHM

--_But who would ever suspect that they were no longer the mind behind the other end of their internal conversation_... 

            --Nail Bunny

The voice howled like an empty wind as once again Sephiroth watched his quarry silently. Watching was all he could do; the Turks had her under surveillance 24/7. Whether it was Tseng's little errand boy, Reno, or Tseng himself with a gaggle of his best men at his side. For her part, the flower girl didn't notice a thing. Her sentinels were there always, keeping to the shadows so the girl could have some semblance of a normal life, and Sephiroth was sure Tseng preferred it that way. The paranoid part of Sephiroth suspected that Tseng wished to keep him away from Aeris. _yesssss....stay away from her. The Turk is wise_....the voice whispered, slithering with contempt for its avatar and the object of its fear. _Shut up_, Sephiroth hissed back at it. The voice snarled,_ She is an abomination_..._you must kill her! She is an enemy_..._LIST_- Sephiroth closed his eyes and with great effort shut the voice out. Opening his eyes tiredly, he panted in the dark. 

 Why they guarded the girl so closely, Sephiroth had some guesses, but not much. If he'd read the documents he stole correctly, they should have been trying to capture her for study. There were whisperings that the Turks intended to invite a new member into their ranks, but who it might be was unknown. It could be the flower girl; Sephiroth had witnessed her little outburst in the alley. Even without such a meager demonstration, there was an aura around her that emanated pure power. She was special; there was no doubt about that. Perhaps that was why they protected her, perhaps not. It was a subject of mild interest, but nothing to sway him from his main objective. 

From what little research he had done, he was completely convinced she was the last surviving Cetra. An ancient. But this information helped him little, he wanted to know why she had such an effect on him. Why she quieted the voice within him. Being an Ancient, perhaps she knew what he was, would she be willing to help him find out? To understand why he was whatever he was? More than man, but less than human. Could she drive away the madness he felt beating at his temples? He needed to understand. He had tried to gather more information, but the voice had begun to interfere more as it was now. Making concentration ever so difficult, giving him blinding migraines as punishment for his apparent disobedience. Distracting him with mindless routines and mental errands that kept him from thinking clearly. 

His mind was softening slowly, the walls of resistance breaking down under the persistent pressure of that voice. It took every inch of sheer stubborn will power for him to sit like a quiet stone, constantly watching his flower girl from afar. The voice half laughed at that last thought, but he could perceive a note of fear in its mockery.  Though it seemed when he was near _her_ the voice was more silent, reduced to an echo in the back of his skull, reverberating softly. This reprieve was comforting, as he'd found himself quite unable to stop the interior from talking lately. The voice, that interior vision of himself, freed from its bonds. Jenova, yes, that was its name. Jenova, the beginning and the end. His creator.  

At the moment, the flower girl was the only thing keeping him from gutting himself, or gutting someone else. Thoughts, such horrible thoughts and feelings and visions, Jenova....the voice....it showed him whatever it pleased now. He'd always known there was something different about himself, separating whatever he was from the rest of the natural world. But even he knew that voices given names inside one's own head was a single giant step into crazy-ville, and he was even surer that visions of eviscerating someone with a butter knife were far from normal. What really worried him was that he felt oddly pleased whenever such thoughts popped into his mind, as it brought a rare smile to his face. 

He had seen the company shrinks about the voice for most of his life, and not one could help him understand what was wrong with him. Lately, he wondered if that voice was his at all. He'd always assumed it was, though it never really sounded like him but he just passed it off. Just a manifestation of his darker desires, yes that's what it was. Now, it seemed like some other, a force that wanted to bend him to its will for it's own darker purposes.  It was more than just the punishment and the unbearable litany of threats and pleadings that came from the voice. 

He couldn't stop it, Jenova, the It had taken something indefinable from him. Whatever _It_ had taken, it was essential to the core of his being but invisible to his conscious mind so that he hadn't noticed when the It had stolen this cog while he slept, unawares. His mind had become an empty vessel, and he could feel bits of himself as they slipped away. Sucked dry by a vortex, its apex where Jenova made its home. He had also become aware that the It had named itself, or perhaps he named it. Remembering little things like that were impossible for him now. 

Whatever delicate mental condition he'd been in before had rapidly deteriorated. The only thing his mind could fixate on was the rumblings of Jenova and his need to speak with the flower girl. Surely she could help him, and in the end he felt she was his only hope. So he waited patiently for a slim chance to meet with Aeris. 

His chance soon came, he couldn't be sure how many days it had been. She had slipped past the safety net that guarded her. Heading for a little abandoned church she frequented. Sephiroth followed, trying to puzzle out how long he'd been waiting. Perhaps it hadn't been days at all. Maybe it'd been only a few hours, or even a few minutes. Things were so soft. Time had lost all meaning to him. Nothing but disjointed conversations. Was this his mind, or someone else's? It's mine when I want it but it's yours some other times. Red and. Sickness. Writhing. Snakes that curl around my mind like endless spinning envelopes. Gushing. Glistening. Wet and moist. _Grab the throat and twist it. How would it look with a great gapping smile_? Red and bleeding. Touch the. Skin. Soft. Pink. _And when the swallows come. I want to make them pay for that_.  Bitch. It's so easy, onetwo. _Make them pay. Make her pay. Filthy whore_. Of you. I. I am not. What's. I'd like to see those emerald orbs with fear. It's so much better. _Kill the toadstool in our garden. Kill the weed that grows in our border. You are the chosen_. Kill? She is a flower amongst the weeds. _Your feet has snapped the bones and carried swift justice to infidels. Didn't you laugh when it flowed through your feet_? Shut up. _You rejoiced in the blood you spilt. Kill the little flower. Snap her neck, grind her beneath your boot heel. Find the dripping crimson. See if she's as pretty inside as out. Let your sword drink her blood_..... SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! _NO! He's ours!! LET HI_--

In his most desperate hour while his mind was soft and weak, Sephiroth had almost let go but for the soft humming in the back of his skull. It came to him just as the voice urged him on. A brilliant blue light, so pure that it temporarily drove the sickness from him. He opened his eyes, jubiliant at the hum's return and the voice's quick retreat. A smile curled at his lips, genuine with joy. Quickly fading as he contemplated what his eyes showed him. A vision from his nightmares. His hand wrapped around a slim neck, frightened green orbs gazing at him lazily on the verge of death. Yes, he'd had a dream like this before. His memory being what it was, he rarely remembered once he awoke. But this one had haunted him. He dreamt of killing something so pure that'd stain his soul even until after his death. It would be his everlasting sin and he feared that it would come to pass. 

This was no dream. He could feel his hand around her neck, having at some point taken his gloves off. The voice. It....It....Aeris, it had tried to goad him into killing her. Just like in the dream he had over and over and over again. _Oh god_.....She was gasping for breath, his hand gripping her neck just tightly enough to cut off air but not enough to crush her wind pipe. _To kill her slowly. Oh god_....Tears stained her face, which was slowly turning blue. Sephiroth went numb, the world stopped and he could feel his body teetering on the edge of collapse. He wanted to throw up but somehow held it at bay. Quickly, he released his hand and she fell limp to the ground, coughing and retching in-between frantic sobs. All he could do was stare in horror. Hand trembling in mid-air. He closed his fist, digging his nails into his skin until it bled. It was the only way to really know if this was reality or a sick dream brought to him by Jenova. His hand throbbed as blood flowed from his wound, slipping between his fingers. _Reality_. His lip trembled and tears just formed rolled down his pale cheek. _Is this human blood_? Sephiroth himself collapsed to the ground, and wrapped his arms around his legs. _What's wrong with me_?

The attack had come out of nowhere; one minute she was pleasantly weeding her garden, the next she was fighting for her life. Aeris sputtered, praying to the gods that she didn't puke. Her breath came in raggidly and she lifted her head to look at her attacker as she rubbed her neck. As she expected, it was him. Sephiroth. Her mind blearily jabbed at her to run, resting could take a backseat to preserving her life. The mind screamed but the body didn't obey, still too taxed to move. So she sat, wheezing like an asthmatic and wondering why she was still alive. She'd figured that this was the moment. A bit different than her dreams, but in the end it would have been the same. Except it wasn't. 

He would be killer sat on the ground, not three feet from her, rocking back and forth with his arms wrapped around him. Looking for all the world like a little boy who'd lost his puppy. The thought was almost funny but for the fact that this little boy had tried to kill her moments ago. Time stretched on, Aeris wasn't sure how long she sat there and watched him rocking like that. There was something oddly hypnotic about the sight of Shinra's great General breaking down in the middle of Midgar's slums. It was almost laughable. Indeed, Aeris caught herself with the wisp of a smile on her face, ready to let loose a small giggle. She paused, feeling suddenly guilty, which led to pity as she looked on him once more. 

On hand and knee she crawled closer to him tentatively, grasping her forgotten staff in one hand. Just in case. Sephiroth did nothing, continuing his rocking silently. Sadness and pain emanated off him, nearly drowning her in his sorrow. He had seen so much evil, such callousness. Aeris choked on it, realizing suddenly at how weak in mind he was. Physically, she couldn't compare to him. He could lift twice his weight with one hand, snap her neck in an instant, cast deadly magic so fast that you wouldn't even have time to realize your own doom. While she was frail, and though her magic was more powerful than most; there was no way it'd stand up to his mastery of it. It was her mind that gave her strength, her stubborn will not to give up that gave her advantage over him. She had hope given to her by so many, while all he saw was despair. It weighted him and allowed Jenova to enter him. Aeris could see it, spreading tendrils of ichorous poison through his fragile mind.  

Looking back on it, she had no reason to try and help him. To her dying day she never knew really what compelled her to act the way she did that day. She followed her heart, the Cetra in her blood rising to heal someone in need. His hand was bleeding badly; Aeris bit her lip daring herself to inch closer to him. Quietly and carefully she sidled up to him until she was sitting near enough to touch him. Reaching out, she touched his wounded hand with her own. At her touch he let out an odd sort of keening sound before snatching his hand away. Aeris frowned, that wound needed to be treated. She reached out again, this time more determined and less afraid. 

"Don't touch me...." came a husky whisper. 

Aeris paused, before grabbing it again, "Your hand is hurt. Please, let me heal it....it'll get infected." 

"I heal fast." He snatched it away again, lifting his head up slightly so she could see his face, if only a little. 

She frowned again...._Now he's just being difficult_....Aeris glowered at him, her lip sticking out like a two year old who didn't get her way. He watched her for the next few moments with interest. She had reached up at began to pull at the bow that held her hair in place. Untying it with a certain look of resolve on her flawless face, until her hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose waves. He noticed at once that the scarf held a tiny piece of materia. This interested him even more and he lifted his head from its cradle, revealing more of his face. 

"Is...that materia?"

"Yes....of course." She said amiably, thinking to herself what an odd conversation she was having.

"What kind?" He asked, his initial reluctance to her touch disappearing. The lightness of her presence was intoxicating. 

"I don't know. It doesn't work. See..." She pulled it off her scarf, holding the empty orb up for inspection. Useable materia was suffused with light and would glow brightly when held. Aeris's materia was dark green, not a speck of light emanating from it. It was as useless as a marble. "It was a gift from my mother." 

"I never knew my mother...."

"Neither did I really. She died when I was young.....I don't remember much." Aeris replied sadly, gently stuffing the materia in her pocket before she began to work on his injured hand. 

"Why are you being so kind to me?" Sephiroth asked pointedly, "I tried to kill you.....I don't deserve anything from you....."

The question stopped Aeris and it took her a moment to respond, "It's a part of who I am. Something I learned from my real mother and my foster mother....Kindness is its own reward."

"Thank you...." he said quietly, looking at her shyly with large jade eyes. 

As she wrapped his newly healed hand with her scarf she locked into those eyes. Starting when she realized they had changed from when she first saw him. When he attacked her....his eyes were very different. Instead of the gentle sea foam they were now, they were a bright angry green. Pupils slitted like a cat's. Inhuman eyes. It was Jenova then, and not him. It had controlled him so easily, it was worse than she had initially thought. The planet hummed affirmatively, she was too late. 

"Yuh-y-you're welcome...." She stammered, looking down to cover her sudden realization of the truth. 

Everything seemed to take on a strange sepia tone, like they were walking through an old photo. The late afternoon light pouring in golden tones as it moved on into evening. Dust motes dancing in the streaming sunlight. Both sat there quietly for sometime, the earth seemingly humming around them. The single realization that had hit Aeris moments ago, also hit Sephiroth. That time was limited, and what both wanted to avoid was inevitable. He had come here with a purpose. To find out what was wrong with him. As their minds intertwined with the earth, he knew that though he couldn't pin point the exact cause of his madness, he knew it was too late to turn back now. 

"I think there's something wrong with me. I'm afraid of what I might do. I'm going to hurt people....hurt you. I know it. I need to know what's wrong.....what I am. I think...I mean, I had hoped you might know..." He looked guiltily at the red welt on her neck, "I'm sorry....I should go...."

Sephiroth made as if to get up, but Aeris stopped him gently with her hand, "Don't worry about my neck. I heal fast." She closed her eyes, warm green light surrounded her and the wound was gone. Just like that. "So why does the great General Sephiroth think I know anything about anything? I'm just a simple flower girl. I'm sorry to have wasted your time, but I can't help you...." Aeris bowed as she said this, deciding that this was the time to leave.

 She had found out what she needed to know. It was too late. Aeris had finally accepted her fate. Dusting herself off, Aeris stood up, looking down on Sephiroth one more time before she left. With a nod, she turned around and made her way towards the door. He wouldn't make leaving that simple. She knew something. He could feel it, moreover he didn't want her to leave. The voice had quieted and he was terrified that if she left the voice would come back. That had to avoided, at least until he got what he came here for. In a flash he blocked her way, using his unnatural speed to meet her at the large double doors of the church. 

"You're lying, Cetra. I need to know what I am....what's happening to me? Please...." 

Her eyes became large and frightened again, "I don't know what you're talking about. Please, let me leave." 

With this denial he whipped out the papers he had stolen, giving her a chance to read them. She scanned the document, her face reacting to the words on the page. _Subject is thought to be an ancient. To determine Subject's status, expose to specimen SEPH-01. Subject Aeris should have strong negative reaction to sample._ Aeris had no idea what sample they were talking about, but she was shocked to see they knew so much about what she was. She opened her mouth to answer Sephiroth, but got no further.

"Don't try to deny it." He pulled back the black silk shirt he'd been wearing to reveal the tattooed number on his arm. "SEPH-01. It's my specimen number. Your reaction when you first met me is confirmation enough I think to assume that the Turks are quite right about you. Not to mention the unusually verdant growth within this church. Little natural light, no water source, and earth that's poisoned with mako. Yet you are able to grow flowers here.....interesting." He paused for affect, pleased when she scowled at him. She couldn't refute the evidence. "You are the last Cetra. As the last Cetra you have a closeness to the planet that gives you the knowledge of many things. What am I? If you don't know already, I think you can find out. I need to know...." 

"I don't know anything. Why don't you ask the people who created you?" 

"Because they would lie to me or kill me if I became too nosey. Their secrets matter more to them than one flawed specimen. Do you still deny you're the last Cetra?"

"No. Since apparently you, the Turks and everyone at Shinra knows. I am the last and I would have liked to keep that fact secret. But I still can't help you."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't. If I could help you, I would but it's too late. Can I leave?"

"No. Explain."

Aeris sighed and rubbed her brow, with resignation she led him back into the church. Standing in a sunlight spot she turned around, keeping her eyes on him as she sat down in one graceful motion. Kneeling on a patch of grass in the middle of her garden, she extended a hand inviting him to sit. Sephiroth looked at her warily before sitting down near her. Aeris noted with interest that he sat warrior style. Legs tucked neatly behind him, his hands resting authoritatively on his knees. 

She waited patiently for him to get settled. It only took a moment before he peered at her somewhat shyly. Aeris gave him a nervous smile, quickly averting her eyes as she began. With her finger she traced forms into a bare patch of earth near her. She did this with deliberate precision, forming the strokes of the runes carefully so that their meaning could not be mistaken. Sephiroth stared at her as she did this, muddled and confused at her actions. The flower girl paid no mind, continuing to draw the runes. After a few minutes, she was done and she leaned back to examine her work. It was perfect, just as her mother had described to her. Sephiroth wanted explanations, then she'd give it to him straight from the planet itself. Aeris glanced up expectantly at Sephiroth, a pleased smile on her face. As if he was supposed to know what he was supposed to do. He looked from the runes to her, not sure what in the hell she expected. 

"I don't understand..." Sephiroth said, his voice a deadpan monotone. 

"Look....." Aeris replied quietly, pointing at the runes she'd drawn. 

"You said that you'd help me. How does _this_ help?"

"Open your eyes and see....if you want answers." This time her voice was less quiet and more annoyed. 

Sighing, Sephiroth looked at the runes again, utterly frustrated and feeling quite stupid as he did so. _What in the hell does staring at dirt accomplish?_ He thought, frowning. He was about to give up again, his mind picking out a ready insult at this stupidity he was forced into.....His thoughts were broken by the distant rumbling of the earth. At first he was worried it was an earthquake, or plate collapse. Then he realized the sound came from within in him, not without. As the rumbling got louder, the runes began to glow. Trails of light following the path Aeris had drawn. This process continued slowly, until each drawing was illuminated with life. The forms of the letters picking themselves up off the solid earth, living puzzle pieces that hovered in midair and then began swirling around him in a bizarrely colored kaleidoscope; until he was surrounded entirely by a wall of pure light. 

He looked around in astonishment, unable to judge his surroundings or figure out where he was. Momentarily he felt as if he'd gone blind and a part of him panicked. He struggled up, though it was hard and it felt like someone was trying to hold him down, he did it. Stumbling to his feet, he reached his hands towards the wall and attempted to find a way out. To no avail, the force that held him down asserted its power, lifting him off his feet and placing him down gently in the same place he had gotten up from. 

The incandescent wall swirled with life, and color gradually inserted itself into the all white world. Twirling and mixing until a hazy picture formed. In a small cradle nestled in the earth lay a body. Outwardly it appeared female, it's naked body in full view, distorted breasts hung limply from its mangled corpse. Its skin was an odd grayish purple from years of lying in cold earth, waiting to be discovered. How long had these mummified remains lay here? Not even the scientists who worked on her knew. They'd tried to carbon date it, but to no avail. Whatever they'd found defied description and every scientific test known to man. 

The corpse itself was in bad condition, with the exception of the upper torso. Her extremities had suffered the worst; the skin was nearly black, wrinkled and leathery. Examining samples from her arms, it seemed that the flesh was liquefying upon contact with the air. Within minutes of being exposed, the arms and legs had completely disintegrated. Leaving only her head and upper torso, which were still oddly supple for a corpse. If you closed your eyes and touched it, it would be hard to tell the difference between it and live skin. Except this skin was cold and quite dead. 

Scientists gathered around their unique find to preserve it before the rest of it liquefied. They had figured it had failed all tests because it predated all recorded history. Before man walked erect and left the caves for simple hand made huts. Before the last of the true dragons drew its last breath. This woman walked the earth, hundreds of thousands of years ago. It would even have been safe to say, millions of years ago. It was bandied about that perhaps this was some kind of proto-Cetra. A theory quickly dismissed by Professor Gast, the most knowledgeable source on that subject. 

A discussion was on hand, which apparently Sephiroth was not privy to. Their mouths moved, but the sound was kept from him. So he watched on, disturbed that he couldn't understand what they were saying. Though it did comfort him that even if he could hear, he wouldn't understand. Finally they immersed the remains in a vat of what looked to be pure mako in liquid form. The images suddenly speed up, people moving in and out like the swiftly fluttering wings of a humming bird. 

The corpse was moved, to a larger tank normally used for immersing future members of SOLDIER. Sephiroth recognized it, as he'd been dunked in more than once for a not-so-pleasant mako bath. Scientists rushed past in fast motion, angry little bees performing their mindless repetitive tasks. Checking the fluid levels, making little notations, taking blood samples from the corpse in the tank. Incredibly it seemed the corpse thrived in the tank, almost as if it was alive and feeding off the mako provided to it by the helpful scientists. The images flew faster and Sephiroth had a hard time keeping up with it. They flooded his mind, with thoughts and pictures so fast that he was nearly unable to bear it. Just when he thought he'd loose it if didn't stop, the images slowed down and returned to a more normal speed. 

The same corpse encapsulated in a tankful of mako, but now he could see more of it. He gasped inwardly; he recognized the lab the corpse had been put in. It was Shinra's main lab, the very place where he'd been tortured and tested over and over and over again. A gurney was rolled into in limited view, so that the young woman who was strapped to it could view the corpse. Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. She looked very much like Aeris, and he guessed that this might have been her mother or some other relative. The resemblance between their faces, the too-green eyes, right down to the curve of her lips. It was too much; she looked almost exactly like Aeris, only older and with dark hair. 

The woman seemed quite serene, until her eyes lighted on the tank and what was inside it. For a lack of a better word, she freaked out. Though Sephiroth could see why she might, most people aren't ceremoniously wheeled in front of a torso floating in mako. Still, her reaction was a little over the top. She seemed terrified beyond rational thought, pulling at her restraints with such force that she was in danger of toppling the gurney. She screamed at an unseen person, seemingly behind her. The sound was once again muted and all he caught was her mouthing the word _Jenova_. Which startled him, because that had been the name the voice used, it had been his mother's name...at least according to Hojo. 

The woman had stopped screaming and merely trembled as she had realized fighting accomplished nothing. Another figure entered the vision, coming up from behind, the apparent driver of the gurney. He kept his back to the vision; the only distinguishing feature was his lank, greasy black hair. Another man burst in from an adjacent door, his fine features contorted in anger. He was handsome in a rather geeky way. His hair was unkempt, but somehow fell in the right manner over his bespectacled eyes to make him attractive rather than repulsive. He pushed his heavy glasses up, continuing his silent diatribe, jabbing his finger at the other scientist for emphasis on whatever point he was trying to make. Enraged he pointed to the woman on the gurney, her being there seemed to upset him. His reaction seemed not that of subject and researcher, but as one lover to another. The unprofessional kind of upset, at least in the scientific community. 

The black haired figure turned around, as if to ignore him. Giving Sephiroth his first look at this mysterious figure. Hojo, it was Hojo, though much younger than Sephiroth remembered him looking. There was no mistaking that man. Sephiroth suddenly paid more attention to the man still screaming at Hojo's turned back. The I.D. tag on his lab coat said Gast, boldly printed in large letters that set next to a rather awful I.D. quality photo. Sephiroth had heard the name, who hadn't? Gast was the man responsible for materia, he had invented the mako refining process. Allowing Shinra and the world to use mako to power just about everything. With that, he also developed the process that created materia, enabling normal people to use magic. It had revolutionized the way the world worked. Though there were many who protested, worried that bleeding the very lifeblood of the earth was slowly killing the planet. 

Five years after he'd done all that, Gast had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. The official story was he'd been kidnapped and more than likely killed by a Pro-planet faction. Though no body was ever found, nor any evidence to back the story up. But Shinra ruled the world, and no one dared question them. It left Sephiroth wondering what Aeris wanted him to see. How did Gast fit in to this puzzle that seemed to become more and more complex with every moment? Sephiroth paused, understanding. The woman looked like Aeris, because she was related to her. More than likely her mother, and Gast was probably her father. Another pair of pawns in Shinra's twisted game, playing with life like a careless child. 

In the vision, Gast quieted when he realized Hojo wasn't listening. He approached the woman on the gurney and began to work at her restraints. Releasing one arm, for which the woman was visibly grateful. She reached up and touched his cheek gently. Gast smiled and titled his head in acceptance of the gesture. Hojo only smiled, craggy, yellowed teeth poking out from underneath his twisted lips. He made a gesture with one of his hands and four armored guards stepped from the shadows with guns raised. They pointed them at Gast, and he immediately stopped what he was doing. Gast looked at Hojo's back with utter contempt, holding his hands up in surrender. Two of the guards grabbed Gast by his arms and dragged him out of the room. Hojo was now alone with the woman.

He approached the Aeris doppelganger; the same cruel smile on his face. She backed away from him, eyeing his hand, which had slipped into his pocket. He pulled out a syringe, his smile becoming orgasmic at the fear in her eyes. Hojo tried to grab onto one of her wrists, but the woman fought him. Slapping and scratching him as he tried to get a hold of her, all the while a translucent stream of tears cascaded down her cheeks. He finally was able to restrain her, wrapping one bony hand around her wrist. Holding her down, he stuck the needle in the arm with little regard for her comfort. The woman wept, and the powers that be focused in on the cruel instrument that drew out her blood. It stayed there, as the quality of the vision began to blur. 

Colors ran together, the light transforming and clearing upon a new vision. Once more, he saw Hojo in a lab he'd never see before. It didn't look like one of Shinra's standard work spaces, it was a personal one. Sephiroth was a warrior not a scientist, but even he could identify the tools used in genetic research. The black blood from Jenova being injected into another victim. Some nameless assistant to Hojo, a poor woman who he raped, impregnated and now used as another test subject for an experiment. The blood continued to pour over all else. Black and dark red overwhelming all sight, until the next vision came. The same assistant lying in the same unfamiliar lab, screaming as doctors ripped the child she'd carried for nine months from her belly. It was a boy, a white haired boy. Created from the blood of an unknown specimen. No, not unknown. Jenova. That was its name. 

Before his eyes, the baby grew into a child and the child into a teenager and that teenager into a young man. Sephiroth looked at a mirror image. His future self, seemingly only five or so years older than he was now. And behind his older self, Jenova's serpentine eyes glared and he could feel her smirking. Blood gushed forward, and before his eyes, he saw a town in flames. At first he thought it might be memories from Wutai, but then he looked closer. It was a town he didn't recognize. The buildings were unfamiliar, at least from what he could see through the smoke. It cleared a bit, and he could see the faint form of mountains behind the smoke and flame.  

Bodies littered the ground, men, women and children. All together in piles, under his feet a mountain of bodies. This mountain town, this place of death and suffering. With every step he brought death, the blood of those he killed spreading until it covered all he could see. The blood receded and all was white again, the only thing in this vast field of nothingness was Aeris. She knelt in prayer, her hands clasped tightly as she recited a mantra. Her eyes opened and the vision Aeris looked right into Sephiroth's eyes. The scene skipped and Aeris fell forward seemingly for no reason. Time flipped back, she was praying again but this time in an actual temple. A shadow crashed from above, as if to engulf the young flower girl. The shadow was him, but it's eyes were Jenova's. Sephiroth watched himself gut Aeris, sliding the masamune through her back. Smiling as it tore through her guts, impaling her. Oh, god.....from there he saw the millions he would kill. Their souls reaching out to damn him.

He woke up screaming and retching, curled up on the cold ground inside the abandoned church. Sephiroth looked up, expecting to see Aeris still standing in front of him. But she was gone. He looked around desperately, shaking with fear of himself and what the vision told him he'd become. Now he knew what he was. 


	9. Love is Just a Kiss Away

The sky cleared, as the afternoon burnt itself away and the dark of night enveloped the sun's fading light. The crescent moon rose, spreading it's silver fingers outward. A small silver of moonlight reached downward, towards Midgar, finding its way to the slums through a rather large gap in the upper plating. It was a rare but welcome sight in the slums, actual light from above. This sliver made even the unsightly rubble within the church look almost ethereal, as an eerie calm hung over the place.

It had been an hour since Aeris cast her spell and showed the demon a tiny glimpse of his future, and that which was hidden from his past. She had waited for the spell to take effect, and once she was sure he was in the depths of it, she'd planned to leave. However something kept her planted to the spot. A feeling that there was something more that she had to do before they parted for good. Though she mostly attributed it to her morbid curiosity with the man who lay limply on the ground.

Was it a man or a demon that lay there? Before she had spoken with him, she knew. It was so very black and white, but now her mind was fuzzy with hazy gray. He had tried to kill her, no, the it inside him had tried and somehow the real person had gained control. Aeris sighed, her brow knit in confused anxiety. _I should leave_.

Person or not, the man was dangerous to her and it was best if she left before he woke. Aeris carefully stood up and brushed the dust from her dress. Taking a moment to stretch, Aeris turned around and quietly walked towards the very back of the church. Behind the great altar, now ruined for lack of use, was a hidden room that lead to what Aeris called her "secret exit". She'd used it many times to escape the Turks, and it was where she kept the majority of her planting supplies.

Lifting the tattered curtain that hid the exit, Aeris took one look back at the slumped form sitting in the middle of her church. Closing her eyes, she said one small prayer for him and prepared to leave. Just then, he awoke, sitting up slowly and rubbing his head. Aeris froze in hopes he wouldn't notice she was still there. It worked, the young man looked around in desperation for her. If only he could see a pair of bright green eyes watching him as he'd watched her.

Sephiroth stopped abruptly, holding one hand to his head. His eyes fluttered and he dropped suddenly to the ground, his body seizing with convulsions. Aeris pushed down the urge to panic, clearing her mind as she rushed towards him. She racked her mind quickly for the first aide class she took for he mom's MS.

She pushed his body over as well as she could, until he was on his side. Cradling his head in her lap so that he wouldn't hurt himself on the rubble-strewn floor. Another seizure came shortly after, foamy saliva oozed out of his mouth. Aeris rubbed his back, waiting until the convulsions stopped, checking his vitals to make sure everything was okay. After several minutes, his breathing slowed to its normal steady rhythm and he stirred. She breathed a sigh of relief as he twisted around and looked at her groggily. He tried to get up, but she gently pushed him back down. Pulling out a handkerchief, she wiped the dirt and sweat from his face.

"You have to rest." She said softly, as if talking to a child.

"Where am I?"

"My church....we were talking, remember?"

"Yes." He paused, "You left."

Aeris nodded, "I did but I came right back. Are you alright?"

"What happened?"

"I cast a spell, it must have been disagreeable to your system. You had a seizure."

He shook his head, "It had nothing to do with it. I often have seizures. Quite funny actually. I'm supposed to be their perfect soldier and there's so much wrong with me."

He looked up at her with glassy eyes, taking in the angel that hovered above him. Golden brown curls dipping down into view, bouncing giddily with even the smallest moment. It felt like home here, and he wondered how long she'd let him linger. He'd never felt so normal. The fear he saw in her eyes was gone, and she looked down at him as if he was any other person. No awe. No clinical detachment. He wasn't an oddity; he was human in her eyes.

Aeris was quite content to let him lay in her lap. The pity she felt earlier had grown into sympathy. So now, she was faced with quite a cacophonous jumble of thoughts. The man that lay so comfortably in her lap, had tried to kill her and would do so again. There was a dangerous madness sleeping within him, yet at this point in his life it hadn't taken complete hold of him. Aeris could plainly see the surprising amount of humanity within him, which she had completely missed on her first meeting with him. She also saw the demon within devouring it, knowing that one day the person she saw here would be gone.

It was easy to hate and fear that which you don't know. It was easier when he was just an unknown threat, a shadow walking down the street. Now that she saw him and knew the pain he'd been through, it was much harder to hold her fear and hatred next to her heart. He was a man who had been born under unfortunate circumstances and with a lethal flaw in his genetic code.

Aeris sighed as she looked down at him, noticing for the first time that his eyes hadn't left her face. He kept his gaze on her, it was intense but she sensed gentleness behind it. She could feel butterflies turning in her stomach as she gazed back down at him. Noticing not for the first time, that he was very good looking. He had fine, sculptured features, like that of any the great master's statues housed in Shinra's museum of fine art. His white hair seeming to glow like liquid silver in the pale moonlight and Aeris pushed down her desire to run her hand through it. Though she knew if she did, that it'd be very soft. A slight blush surfaced on her cheeks, as her eyes moved from his hair to his lips. Her blush deepened as she wondered what it'd be like to kiss him. She felt her pulse rise, her breathing becoming more hurried as the length of their silent exchange extended. Aeris fidgeted, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the feelings she was having but unable to deny her obvious attraction to him.

"I-I...I should go..." She stammered, looking away nervously.

He noticed her discomfiture, and slowly sat up, his eyes still trained on her face. He watched her visibly relax, though he mourned her warmth, he didn't wish to make her more uncomfortable than she already was. But he also didn't want her to leave, not yet.

"No, don't....I....What was that spell you cast? I've never seen anything like it."

Aeris smiled, no one had ever asked her how her magic worked and she was all too pleased to explain. Not noticing his delay tactic, forgetting her previous feelings of embarrassment. "The spell itself is much similar to most time based spells, like Stop or Haste...modified with a gravity spell to create a hole into the space/time continuum. Once the hole is open, it's just a matter of pulling in the targeted matter into the vortex, finding their own timeline and pinpointing an series of events, past or present, they'd like to view."

Sephiroth blinked blankly at her explanation. Materia theory was an interesting subject, and one he had studied with aplomb. He considered himself quite an authority on the subject. Materia was unalterable, you couldn't change it, merely make it more powerful. You could combine different materia together and get different effects; he understood that part of it. However using magic like that in such a massive manipulation of time and space was unthinkable. He sat up and looked at her closely as if she'd spoken to him in a foreign tongue.

"Come again?" He asked, cocking his head to one side, punctuating his confusion.

Aeris laughed, forgetting that not everyone was quite as adept as she, even the great Sephiroth. "Time is like a vast river and we're all like boats on this river. Now, all beings on this earth can only go forward, because they don't know how to manipulate their oars the right way. My spell allowed me to guide your oars, so that they could move in whatever direction you pleased."

"You guided me? So, does that mean you saw what I did?"

She nodded slightly, uncomfortable that they were switching back to more personal issues.

"Everything?"

"Yes." She replied quietly, looking down at her fingers with interest.

"So you saw the last vision then. The one where....I kill you? Is that the future?"

Aeris became numb and instead of an audible answer, she only shook her head yes. Gods, she didn't want to talk about his, especially with him.

"Why do I do it?"

"I don't know." She answered quietly.

"Is there a way to stop it?"

"No...I told you before. It's too late."

"How do you know that?"

Aeris could feel his stare on her, expecting more of an answer. What right did he have to pull it from her? What did it matter to him? She was the one who was going to die. Barely keeping herself civil, she replied bluntly, "Because I just do."

"That's not good enough. How do you know?" He insisted, becoming a bit irritated with her. "Because if there is a way to change this...."

"Believe me, if there was, I would have found a way already. This path is unalterable. I know, because this isn't the first time I've seen that vision. It's been with me since I was young. I think this is something that has to happen, at least that's what the planet has lead me to believe."

"So the planet shows you one vision and you just accept it? That's utter bullshit."

She sighed as it became harder to keep her patience with him. Talking about this made her want to scream. Exasperated, she snapped, "Yes, I do...because she is the mother of all of us. Even you. Without her, we have no home...This planet is dying. Everyday I hear its screams, I feel its pain. I'm the only one who's noticed and the only one who cares, because of what I am. The planet's last shepherd."

"I don't understand...."

Aeris smiled sadly, "No one does. Humans have always been deaf to her. So I'm the only one she has to turn to."

"How does my killing you help the planet? If you're the last Cetra, I'd think the planet would want to bloody well keep you around."

"True. But..." She paused to collect her thoughts, "For thousands of years, the planet's been waiting for a miracle. Very soon the stars will align, and the time will finally be right. Once that time comes, the planet can be healed." ." Her emotions overwhelmed her, and she had to stop again. Taking a deep breath, Aeris faced reality. Telling the General as much of the truth as she could, "But for such a gift, there is always a price. The laws of the universe demand that if a life is given, another must be taken away, everything must balance. So a sacrifice must be made."

"How do I fit into it? Why me?"

"I don't know. The planet only shows me what it feels I need to know. It can't allow me to know too much of my own future. It's against the laws of nature."

"So that's it then. I'm damned for all eternity for reasons I'll never understand." he snorted, "Forever on a need to know basis. Fucking great."

Sephiroth gazed at Aeris, a bitter smile on his young face. She returned the smile, and without warning, she lifted her hand up and placed it gently on his cheek. She couldn't give him understanding; at least she could give him purpose. He felt a warmth flowing from her fingers, as she awakened a part of him that had slept for ages. Beating back the walls of black sickness temporarily, connecting him with a power he'd never even known existed but suddenly he could feel it. A warm chorus of voices, that at first sounded angelically blissful but gradually the song became a mourning wail. The planet aching and moaning, as its energy was being drained, bleeding from a hundred different wounds all over the world. At each wound, a reactor sat above it. The planet needed to heal itself and it had called upon its last shepherd for help. From this buzzing in the back of his mind he understood what her role was to be, as what his role was. Why fate had place them at this crossroads, because of what had to be. A single tear slid down his cheek, and he looked down at Aeris with complete understanding.

_This is the work we have to do. Our purpose, our reason for being here. _ She whispered to him through their tenuous mental link, before letting her hand slip back into her lap.

Looking deeply into her eyes, with silent communication they knew the next time they'd met, things would be different. The next time he saw her, he probably wouldn't even remember who she was. The sleeping madness in his brain would empty him of his humanity, and his memory that he'd been anything other than a monster. She would be forced to face this thing, and give her life to save the planet. One would be sainted, the other damned for all eternity. History painting a pair of black and white caricatures of who they were, leaving the plain fact that at the core, both Sephiroth and Aeris were human. Fate was cruel indeed. That it'd let them know this, and still force them to face what lay in their future.

He watched her face, aware of the frightful choice she had to make. He was lucky. There was no choice he had to make. His malady had been put upon him, a curse he was born to bear. He'd go insane, no matter what happened. She had to make a conscious choice to stop him, and soldier up the bravery to face her own mortality. He'd never been able to say that he loved another person. The women he'd been with were boring fan girls, who he'd bedded to sate his urges. This girl, she was special. If things had been different, perhaps she could have made him happy. If they were normal humans. The strange effect of being around her, made him feel alive. _Brave fearless girl, I owe you more than you know. Thank you for letting me feel like I was real. _

With great gentleness, he titled her head up so that he could see her face one last time before he forgot its symmetry. She was lost in thought and the suddenness of his touch startled her. She jumped a little, her cheeks turning scarlet as his attention. His hand left her chin, he trailed upwards, burying it her thick mane. He pulled her closer. Her mind was reluctant, but her body willing. Allowing him to close the gap between them, following her body's desire. Aeris bit her lip, looking up at Sephiroth uncertainly. He smiled boyishly, stroking her hair, wordlessly telling her it was alright to give into the moment. Their eyes meet, and they both moved in closer. His lips gently touching hers in a soft farewell kiss.

Pulling away, he whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry."

A simple apology for the terrible choice she had to make and what hell he'd put her through to get there. Aeris stared at him in astonishment and was unable to move from sheer shock. It was her first kiss. He smiled and stood up, exiting the church without so much as a look back. His darkened form fading into shattered moonlight.

**Author's Note--** IT LIVES! IT LIIIIIIIIIIIVES! Sorry so long in updating. I've been battling a rather squishy and irritable monster called writer's block. This chapter isn't much. Quite short but I came to me and I give it to you. Do hope you enjoy. Yes, some of the crap in here probably isn't canon but then those who read my stuff know I'm not a canon whore. And yes, despite my initial reluctance, this has become a semi-AeriSeph. I've discussed my doubt about this particular pairing before, or maybe I haven't. Either way, I don't generally approve, yet something compelled me to write this. I think there's at least a little something there, but whatever it is...it should never end well. Theirs is a love that was not meant to be. I've already written the end of this, well, okay at least most of it. Thought don't worry, we have a while before that happens. I might even decide to visit some other familiar faces from FF7. winks Of course, I'm not going to tell you who, because I'm evil and I want you to be surprised. Hopefully my writer's block is broken and I'll be able to write more soon.

Much love and thanks to all of you-- Noa. -

PS--I retooled this a little, just in case you read it earlier.


	10. Last Train in the Dark

"What do you mean...she's _gone_?" Tseng said, his voice calmly quiet despite his growing ire. 

He paused to regard the trembling mountain of flesh that stood in front of him. The young monolith was the newest member of the Turks, his name was Carl and by all estimations he was a certified idiot. Yet Tseng had trusted him with the easiest assignment. Something most five year olds would have little difficulty doing. Nearly impossible to screw up. Apparently, he was quite wrong. Tseng cursed himself for allowing Rufus to stick him with the lummox. 

At the time he'd reasoned that taking on Carl would allow him to curry favor with the Shinra heir. Carl was Rufus's cousin and nothing more than a wannabe. None too bright and possessing no skills, he was a dead weight. Tseng had told this all to Rufus when Carl interviewed for the job and the Shinra heir had agreed with him completely. Carl had no place in the Turks, but his father had requested of him to find his cousin a job, lest the boy be cutoff. 

At Shinra, those who didn't push their weight didn't last long and Carl had a lot of weight to push. He'd had a string of menial labor jobs he'd managed to bollix, mostly because he was an ineffectual lay-about barely able to master the fine art of mopping. What Tseng really couldn't believe was that someone at Shinra actually thought it'd be a good idea to promote him to a higher level job when it was quite clear he couldn't handle the counter at the company cafeteria. 

The thinking was that if given a prestigious job that Carl would be more motivated to succeed. As if some kind of hidden industriousness would magically appear out of his ass and bless Carl with something resembling intelligence. Tseng wasn't really that surprised when it didn't. Carl was as useless as always. His slothfulness becoming more than just a way of life, as a Turk it reached into the sky in legendary proportions. 

The thing that galled him the most was that he actually _trusted _the boy this time. Hoping vainly that Carl would manage to at last do something right. Hell, this job was right up his alley. All the fat bastard had to do was sit on his ass and watch Aeris through a pair of thermal binoculars. If she made a move to leave, he was supposed to call Tseng. That was the extent of his duty and Carl managed to find a way to fuck it up. Tseng had found him twenty minutes ago, fast asleep with a humongous beef sub on his chest. 

Knocking the sub off his chest, Tseng awoke Carl with a backhanded strike to his face. In the back of his mind he remembered promising Rufus that he wouldn't touch the boy. Carl was to be given special treatment. He had to be handled with kid gloves, lest he go back and whine to the President or his daddy, the Vice President. Currently, Tseng didn't really give a flying fuck about the President or his promise. He'd lost patience with the boy and his anger wouldn't be denied an outlet. 

He'd slapped Carl around a bit because his wroth needed a target, and it had made him feel better once it was spent, until of course he checked Aeris's room with the thermal goggles and found her gone. Tseng closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a massive migraine coming on. With a long sigh, he struggled to understand the levels of stupidity that one human being was capable of. Something would have to be done about the Carl problem, that fact was crystal clear. At the moment, all Tseng cared about was finding Aeris. Sephiroth had gone missing for two days and was more than likely skulking around somewhere. This particular wrinkle in plans well laid was not helping matters in the least. 

"I asked you a question." Tseng repeated, his velvet voice not betraying how irritated he really was, "What do you mean, she's gone?"

Carl looked at him with dumb cow eyes, answering with an ineffectual gesture toward her window, "Uh....she left?" 

Bowing his head, Tseng turned around and clasped his hands behind his back. His posture was stiff, rendering him like a coiled spring in the muffled black of Midgar's night. Minutes passed and the Turk leader said nothing, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. He was letting Carl sweat in anticipation, besides, he needed time to gather his thoughts and cool his current temper because he was quite close to shooting the bastard in the head. After five full minutes, Tseng pivoted slowly on the spot. Facing the younger Turk with dark eyes that gleamed with menace. 

Wordlessly, he strolled up to Carl and casually tilted his head as he bent down to stare right into the boy's eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly, though no joy touched the rest of his face. This was the smile of a predator about to ambush its prey. Raising himself back up to his full height, Tseng calmly straightened Carl's tie until it set in place neatly. With equal grace, he dusted off the crumbs from his jacket. Satisfied, he looked down at the boy once more, his face an unreadable mask. 

"She left." Tseng stated simply, nodding his head to punctuate his thought, "She _left_." Upon repeating Carl's statement, Tseng began to chuckle. Shaking his head, the chuckle turned into a laugh. 

At first, Carl seemed reluctant to join in but after a bit, he laughed cautiously. When he saw that nothing came of it, the boy deepened the laugh. The joy he felt was short lived as Tseng caught him by the collar with feline grace. No longer taking care to hide his emotions, the Turk's face twisted in anger. Pulling the boy closer, he hissed, "Brilliant observation, fuck nuts. Why don't you tell me what color the goddamned sky is! OF COURSE she _left_, because she's not fucking here. What I'm asking is where the FUCK did she go!? We'd know that if you'd been DOING YOUR FUCKING JOB!" 

"I....I.....I....I...." Carl stammered, his mouth gapping and drooling like a fish out of water. 

With a snort of disgust, Tseng snapped, "YOU WORTHLESS SACK OF SHIT!" 

He shoved the boy so hard that he landed with a grunt in a pile of rubbish. In a blink of an eye, he had his pistol out and aimed at Carl. The boy's eyes went wide and before he could even begin to plead for his life, Tseng shot. The bullet winged out with a nearly silent snap, embedding itself in a broken piece of concrete next to Carl's head. Tseng stood over him with his gun held at his side. 

"Get up." 

The boy numbly obeyed, unable to look into the older man's eyes. 

"Look at me." Tseng said, his voice devoid of any obvious anger, "You're a Turk. We expect better from you. Now, go find Rude. Tell him what happened--in detail. Find the girl..."

Carl had gotten his second wind, finding some hidden font of bravery, he interrupted Tseng, "Y-You had no right. I'm telling my Dad....You can't threaten me like that you know....I..."

"Daddy's out paying the bills, son." Tseng paused and leveled the gun at Carl, "Shinra was built on a foundation of corpses. I don't think anyone will notice one more.  Do we understand each other?" He waited for Carl to nod slowly, "Good.  Don't dawdle.  Find the girl... _Now_."

Carl hesitated, regarding Tseng warily as if waiting for him to strike again. The Turk leader stepped back with a smile, holstering his weapon. The boy swallowed hard and slowly stood up to leave. Tseng watched the boy's bulky form retreat into darkness, bottomless dark eyes narrowing into slits. _Yes, the Carl problem needed an immediate solution_. He growled, lashing out at the piles of rubbish, kicking everything in sight. 

"Dude. Keep it down. You're gonna wake up the old bat with all the noise you're making."  

Tseng twirled around to regard the familiar voice, his face communicating his current deficit of humor. "Reno. I'm not in the mood right now. Piss off." 

"Whoa. Sorry. Didn't realize it was that time of the month." the red haired man replied, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "So what's got your panties in a bunch _this_ time?"

Reno waited for his boss to answer, if there was one thing he knew about Tseng was a bit of humor always lightened his mood. Even if he'd never admit it. 

"Carl." Tseng growled, briefly recounting events to Reno--who merely nodded as he listened. 

It was obvious Tseng had some steam to blow off. In the last two days he'd become increasingly tense, his manner was jumpy and he seemed to snap at the most innocent of comments. Reno understood why, but at the same time he recognized it wasn't healthy to live that way. Freaking out about every little thing lead to heart attacks and premature graying of the hair. This time, however, it seemed that Tseng's normal over the top reaction was merited. Carl had fucked up for the last time. 

"So, what're you gonna do?" Reno asked as he lit a cigarette. 

Tseng stared out into space darkly before answering quietly, "When you got a litter of puppies, you can't keep all the runts. Take him to Clarkesville."

"Are you serious?" 

"Did I stutter?" Tseng replied, his expression becoming coldly somber. "Call Rude, get him on it." 

Reno nodded, pulling out his phone and dialing up the number by heart. Quietly the red haired Turk turned away, mumbling instructions to his sometime partner. Tseng waited patiently, though his thoughts were in a jumble. The only clear thought was worry for Aeris. 

He thought of the whys and wherefores. Why he felt as if he had to protect her. It was a deeply held secret in his heart, one that he would never reveal to her or anyone else. He had broken the cardinal rule of the Turks; he had fallen in love with a target. Though to his credit, he'd loved Aeris before he'd become a Turk, not that it made it any easier. They had been childhood friends. He smiled as he recalled those memories from long ago, when he was still somewhat innocent. They had met in the old sector six playground. 

Aeris was a strange girl, even back then. She was enigmatic, so many secrets hidden behind those green eyes and that sweet smile. Talk to her one day and she was like any other child, talk to her the next and she seemed thousands of years older. Most kids stayed away from her. They thought that she was a freak, a weirdo who heard voices. Though Tseng himself never thought those things. 

He was as much an outcast as she. With his sharp Wutai features, he stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the white bread inhabitants of Midgar. For this, he'd been teased and bullied relentlessly. At first he just took it, but one day he decided he'd had enough, breaking a kid's nose in a rage. Promising himself to never again take shit from anyone.  

Aeris was the exact opposite. She never fought back, preferring to take their insults with a quiet kind of resignation. It wasn't like they didn't hurt her. They did. She was clearly lonely. Watching all the other kids play with her large emerald eyes from the far side of the playground. Sometimes Tseng had wondered why she came at all because it obviously caused her quite a bit of pain when she did. But everyday without fail she'd come. 

You had to admire her tenaciousness. Tseng smiled at that thought. He remembered the day they finally met. Despite her outcast status, it was recognized that Aeris was uncommonly beautiful. This fact was especially noted by all the boys, and hated by all the girls. 

One day a group of girls decided to do something about Aeris once and for all. They were all at least two years older than Aeris and quite a bit bigger. Ganging up on the tiny girl, they'd pushed her to the ground and descended on her. Hitting, slapping and kicking her prone figure, and something inside Tseng snapped when he saw that. 

He, like all the other kids, mostly ignored Aeris. She was small for her age and quiet, never really bothering anyone else. So they'd always left her alone. Everyone watched this spectacle with horror, too afraid to actually step in and help. Everyone, except for Tseng. He knew what it was like to be beaten because you were different. It was a peculiar and painful form of torment, and completely unfair. Balling his small fists, he charged over and pulled the girls off Aeris. Threatening to kill them all if they ever touched her again. And he meant it. 

Aeris rewarded him that day with a kiss on the cheek, which made him blush furiously, though it cemented a bond that lasted between them for many years. For her, it was an obvious brother/sister bond and Tseng respected that, even though he wished for more. He never pushed; content to be her bodyguard because at least he got to be near her. No one ever bothered her after that, he made sure of it. 

Time passed and with each day, Aeris grew more beautiful but there was always a feeling that there was more within her than her human shell could hold, a power that lurked just behind her fair countenance. When looking at her, He'd think back to old Wutai legends his grandfather had told him about tenyo--heavenly maidens, angels that came to earth to commune with the planet. Sometimes called the cetra or the ancients. 

Time counts and keeps counting. Sooner or later childish things are put away and replaced by the detritus of nearing adulthood. Friends that you loved in childhood grow up; becoming people you barely have anything in common with, if you ever did. Aeris and Tseng were no different. 

Aeris was always a pacifist. Preferring to tend to her flowers than submit to the ugly violence of the city. Tseng fought, as he always had. Taking what had made him feared as a child and developing it into a rather successful, but brutal, career. 

Different lives, different choices. Yet there was still a strong bond of filial loyalty. Not a bond of blood, true, but a bond non-the-less. Over the years, they'd lost track of each other but occasionally he'd drop by and see how she was doing. He still considered himself her older brother and her first real bodyguard. 

Now he felt as if he'd failed in his duty. There had always been an unspoken promise on his lips that he'd make sure she'd be all right. Keep her out of the hands of Shinra, who sought to use her. Turk though he may be, he was still loyal to his people's traditions. It was a sin to harm a tenyo and a blessing to protect one. He'd keep Aeris safe, even if it meant his life. 

It was the how that worried him. The Turks constant failure to capture Aeris would only last so long. Sooner or later Shinra would get fed up and assign her capture to another division. Hojo was already rattling cages about it, trying desperately to wrest control of her files from the Turks. Tseng would fight it, but if push came to shove, he knew Hojo, having more seniority than he, would win. The last thing he wanted to see was his little sis in the hands of that fruitcake or his albino errand boy. 

"Tseng? Tseng you okay?" Reno asked, worried at the odd look on his friend's face. 

"Yeah, fine. Hey, if you were Aeris where would you go?"

"What?"

"Idiot, you've spent the most time with her. What places does she frequent?"  Tseng snapped irritably. 

Reno could only think of one place she'd go to, especially considering how stressful the last few days had been, "Her church. She'd be at her church."  

Tseng grunted as a reply, checking the clip in his handgun before slipping it back into his shoulder holster. Reno twirled his EMR nervously, until he caught his boss's eye. For a moment they just looked at each other with resolute seriousness. With a mutual, wordless nod, they started for the church, walking with calm, measured strides. Determination would get you everywhere, but not fast enough for Tseng. Eventually they broke into an all out run, fearing the worst. Tseng's skin prickled, he knew that pale freak would be there; he could feel it and his worry for Aeris increased. His one thought was that Aeris had better be there and unharmed or Hojo would be less one precious specimen. 

It's funny when one's worst fear comes true. The horrible knowledge that you were right, and even worse, knowing that your being right didn't make the situation any better. It dampens any triumph one could possibly feel. Running on the main pathway to the church, Tseng saw _him_ and skidded to a halt. 

On the far end of the road walked a tall and imposing figure, his ghostly white hair flowing behind him like tattered curtains in a broken window.  There was no question of who it was and Tseng involuntarily curled his lip at the sight and his eyes narrowed. The General hadn't spotted the two Turks yet, looking as if he was in deep thought. 

"What is it?" Reno asked as he jogged up to Tseng. 

The dark haired man said nothing, gesturing with a nod of the head to what lay plainly in front of them. Sephiroth. Reno gasped and went for his weapon. Dark eyes flashed, and Tseng's hand immediately intercepted Reno's sudden motion. Grabbing the red haired Turk's arm, Tseng raised a finger to his lips.

The two Turks slipped into the concealing shadows of the debris from an old plate collapse. It gave them plenty of cover, without blocking their view of the road. The soft, almost imperceptible footsteps of the General passed them by. The Turk leader's face was stone cold, his coal black eyes trailing his enemy as he passed by their position.  

The silver haired man paused just in front of the debris field, his head titling as if listening to something only he could hear. Sephiroth looked around and Tseng could do nothing but hold his breath. He got the distinct impression that Sephiroth somehow knew they were there, and it was only by luck of his seemingly pensive state that he hadn't pinpointed them.  His bright mako eyes glowing eerie green in the darkness of the lower plate. Tseng held back the urge to level his weapon and shoot the freakish bastard in the head. 

Sephiroth shook his head and continued on his way until his dark form merged with the shadows ahead. After a beat or two the Turks emerged from their concealed position once they were quite sure he was gone. Reno didn't even have to ask, he merely started dialing, setting up a nice ambush for the good General. After all, he was late for his assignment and Reno would hate to see the mountain expedition loose any more time. Sephiroth had already held them up for two whole days. 

Tseng shot Reno a quick look to indicate he was going to check on Aeris, as the phone call was becoming overlong. The church was only a short ways away, and Tseng was able to easily jog the distance. 

For a moment he stood and stared at the crackled door of the church, something inside of him almost afraid to open it. What would he find in there? If Sephiroth had hurt her....the thought trailed. Furiously, he pushed the door open, creaking on rusting hinges. Light flooded the dark interior of the church and Tseng entered quietly, heart pounding. 

"Aeris." He called, wincing as the sound echoed in the empty dark. "Aeris? Aeris where are you?" 

"Tseng?" came her reply, her voice soft and raspy, as if she'd been crying. 

Relief flooded him and he nearly ran into the main part of the church. Before he could even ask where she was, she appeared silhouetted by pale moonlight. Her face cloaked in darkness, unreadable. 

"Yes." He said, a gentle smile softening features hardened by life. 

"You're here." It was a statement and a question at the same time. 

"I'm always here. You're my little sis, remember?" Tseng paused, adding thoughtfully, "You're okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No...." She replied quietly, stepping out of the direct glow of the moonlight, towards him. As she approached, her face became more visible. It was dirty and there were obvious tear streaks that spread across her cheeks. 

Tseng's heart broke as he looked down at her. How could she lie like that? "You've been crying." He stated simply, implying that he wanted an explanation.

She nodded slowly, understanding him perfectly, as she always had, "All my life, I never questioned my visions. I wasted so much time, time when I could have changed things. Tseng, do you think fate can be defied? Even if you know it's probably too late..."

"I don't know, Aeris. I'm not even sure what you're talking about." Tseng answered carefully. 

Aeris looked up at him wide eyed, "I don't want to die, Tseng. And there were things I could have done to stop it. If only I had gotten to him sooner, if only I had warned him...and now." She stopped then, her voice cracking as she broke down. Her tears choking her as she struggled to gain control of her emotions. After a bit, she continued, her voice sounding more broken than before, "It's too late. He's gone and it's too late. And I'm going to die, and he's....oh god. It was so much easier when he was just....a monster. Before...now....god, he's human. He doesn't deserve...."

"Who...who doesn't deserve?" Tseng asked, his blood running deathly cold, pleading with whatever god would listen to stopper her mouth before she uttered that hateful name. 

"Sephiroth." She answered quietly; hope suddenly surged within her, "Tseng, you both work for Shinra. There's still a chance. If you could tell him.....Maybe there's still a chance..." 

"I'm not telling him a damn thing. I don't know what's going on in that crazy head of yours, but I don't like the picture you're painting me. Do you actually pity that freak? That's fucking obscene, he's going to murder you."

"Don't call me crazy! He's not a freak. I saw..." she said, vehemently. 

Tseng cut her off, his own fury a match for hers, "You saw what he felt like showing you. But underneath all the angst ridden tortured soul bullshit, is a monster. Pure and simple. You're a fool if you believe otherwise." 

"Am I foolish in thinking I could save him? Am I foolish to try and avert my own death?"

"I believe you, I believe that he'll kill you. He has killed and will continue to kill, because he was built to kill.  I don't want you to die either, but I hardly think a stern admonition or cryptic bits of wisdom are going to keep Sephiroth from doing what he was made to do."  Tseng's words poured out. "I've seen a million girls with the same look on their faces, the same hope in their hearts. But you can't turn stone to flesh. You can't mold a monster into a man. Beauty will NEVER tame the beast. The only way this ends is with his death or yours.  I choose his." He stopped, his eyes bright with righteous fury and he could see she understood the deadly implication of his last words. 

"Don't."

"Why not?" 

"....I....you can't. He's human...If you warned him....."

"Sephiroth is _NOT_ human. He's an abomination, a perversion of nature and a cold-blooded murderer."

She glared at him coldly, "And what makes you any different than him? You're a murderer, aren't you? That's what the Turks do, right?"

"There is a VAST difference between what I do and what he does. The people I kill are far from innocent -- mobsters and thugs who already have blood on their hands. I'm doing the world a favor by ridding it of them. Sephiroth kills indiscriminately. I've seen his work, Aeris. He goes into an area and when he comes out, nothing is left alive. He's slaughtered entire villages, left them desolate and empty. Killed men, women and children. Mowed through them like summer grass. Don't think that you're any different in his eyes." He paused, letting the thought sink in before continuing, "I would NEVER hurt you. Never. I'm not going to kill you.  _He_ is. Your proof is in your dreams, Aeris.  Sephiroth.  Will.  Kill.  You."

Aeris looked up at him then, her face stricken with fear and sadness. She knew what he said was the truth, but there was a part of her that mourned at the loss of hope. Yes, for a brief moment after her exchange with Sephiroth, Aeris had dared to hope. Believing that somehow, some way, she'd impact him and cause some kind of miraculous change that would flower and grow. Make him able to slay his demons and leave his tortured past behind to become a better man. It was every girl's dream, wasn't it? But the solid truth of it was built on a foundation of lies. A stupid fairy tale told to indulge imaginative young girls, to cushion them from the harsh realities of the world. 

She had used this fable to cushion herself, to push back the reality of her own life -- her own death. Her eyes went dead as she _fully_ accepted her fate. Nothing mattered anymore. It was all on autopilot now, just a matter of time before she'd become the ultimate sacrifice. Would it really be murder or suicide? Aeris slumped to the floor with this realization, her arms hanging limply at her sides. The odd, disconsolate look in her eyes worried Tseng. He had been too hard on her and he cursed silently. 

Kneeling down, he joined her and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up with eyes still empty of life or love, drained by the fatal promise of her own demise. What could he say now that would soothe her soul? There was nothing he could say, no lie he could tell to make that haunted look leave her face. 

"I know I can't change things. I know I missed my chance, if I ever had one. But..." Her voice was quiet, desolate, and cracked as she spoke, "I had hoped. It was stupid, but I had hoped...I don't care if you don't believe me...but I _saw_ it, Tseng. No matter how infinitesimal in proportion, there is a part of Sephiroth that is human and will remain human. And I pity that part of him, for what he's lost and will never know. I can't help it. It was easier, so much easier before...." 

"Why, why does everything in my life have to be like this? Ending in blood and death and horror and violence? Just once. Just ONCE! I wanted..." Her voice hitched as a sob broke through whatever calm she had kept up to this point, the last of her words were nearly lost as she burst into tears,  "It's like, everywhere I go, everything I touch...I destroy." 

"That's not true." Tseng said, with careful urgency.

"YES IT IS! EVERYONE I EVER LOVED, REALY LOVED, IS DEAD. OR WILL BE! I'm forced to face a future that holds NOTHING for me but death. HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT! Nothing, nothing I've touched has come to any good. In the end, it all falls away -- slips from my fingertips. I wish I was never born!" She sobbed, her tears were hot silver rivulets that coursed down her face like a waterfall down a mountainside. 

"Don't you say that. Don't EVER say that." Tseng paused, before gathering the flower girl closer. 

There was a moment where he almost let his secret slip. Almost, but he held his tongue. He knew the burden she had to bear and he didn't want to make her life more difficult. Hell, he didn't want to make his own life more difficult. For even if she returned his affection, there would be a time when they'd be at odds. Sooner or later, him being a Turk would get in the way. It was his job to hunt her after all. He could refuse, but then they'd just kill him and get a replacement that had no problem with handing her over to Hojo. 

Holding her as she wept. He could feel her frail body as it racked with sobs and even as stoic as he was, it gave him waves of uncontrollable sorrow to see her this way. He couldn't help her, couldn't stop it and what hurt the most was the sure knowledge that in the future, he'd eventually be on the other side. Another thing that caused her pain. Their time as friends was soon coming to an end, but while it was here he had made up his mind to make the best of it. He would help as much as he could, even if it wasn't enough to make a difference. 

His voice tight, he continued after a bit, "Aeris, I'm sorry about what I said. People like me, like Sephiroth. We destroy. We make this planet the awful place it is. Not you, never you. You. You're a beacon in the darkness. You give the world hope, where there is none. Look around you Aeris, look at all the life you've created. How can you say that everything you touch, you destroy? How can you say that in the face of life? I don't believe for one moment that you will go quietly into the night. Whatever your fate, it doesn't end with your death. It begins with your life. It always has and always will be your greatest gift. It's what you're put on this planet for. Not to die, but to live." 

He looked down at his little sister then, who smiled back up at him tears still in her eyes. Joy mixed with unspent tears as he saw life return to her eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper, he smoothed her hair, "I'm so sorry, Aeris. Sorry that you have to suffer. I'm sorry I'm a bastard. But don't blame yourself. It's because of you that I can even get up in the morning and look in the mirror. You're the only good, pure thing I've had in my life...." He trailed off, unable to continue as his emotions had rose to the surface. He closed his eyes and whispered silently, to himself_, I love you_.  

Minutes passed and Tseng continued to hold Aeris as her tears subsided. There were few promises he could make her that he knew he could keep. One was that he'd always love her -- the other, a solemn promise that if Sephiroth ever laid hands on her again, if Aeris's dream indeed came to fruition, he'd put a bullet in the General's head himself. These were things unspoken but Tseng got the feeling that in some way, Aeris knew and understood. She had always understood. Aeris shifted position to look up at him as she wiped her remaining tears away.

"Feeling better?" he asked and he was pleased when she nodded, "I'm sorry..."

"Quit apologizing. You don't have to." She said, her voice nasally hoarse from all the crying, "You know...that was really, really corny...what you said." 

Tseng laughed lightly, glad to see his sis was back again, "Did it work?"

"Yes." 

"Good." 

Things were not perfect. Nor would they ever be. Aeris no longer felt the overwhelming despair that had nearly enveloped her but it was still there. She would have to be content to live at the moment. It was as simple as that. Tseng had unknowingly given her the key to her eventual success. He had shown her the door where her power lay, in her life and those lives she touched. It was her connection to this world that made her a force to be reckoned with. Her determination to go on, her love of this world and all the people on it--it gave her something to fight for and a reason to go on without fear. She laid her head on Tseng's shoulder, glad to accept the comfort found in the arms of her childhood friend. 

"SWEET RAMUH'S BALLS! GET A FUCKING ROOM!" Reno shouted, in the loudest voice possible. 

That broke the complete seriousness of the moment and whatever gravity there had been was dispelled. Tseng let Aeris go hurriedly, his knees popping as he got up in one swift movement. He helped Aeris up and as he did so he gave Reno a disapproving look that should have been enough to chide him into silence, but only served as fuel for his amusement. The red haired man laughed, dragging on his cigarette, a lopsided smile still on his face. 

"Don't let me interrupt, I'll let you two crazy love birds alone. So, this means Aeris is off limits, right?"

Aeris and Tseng said, in unison, "Shut up, Reno."

Reno grinned, wiping away imaginary tears as he spoke, "Don't listen to the papers. I know you'll find a way to make it work. It's....It's so beautiful." 

Aeris barked at him,  "IT'S NOT LIKE THAT AND YOU KNOW IT!" 

"Damn, I wish I brought my camera! Because you know, black and white would really capture the moment just perfectly..." 

With this comment, Aeris lost her temper and winged a small stone she'd scooped from the ground at Reno's head. It completely missed, flying over his shoulder. Reno burst into wild gales of laughter, which served to irritate Aeris even more. His merriment stopped quite suddenly as another stone whipped out and struck him straight in the head. In surprise, the red haired Turk rubbed his forehead and looked over at Tseng, who stood there tossing another stone as if he had not a care in the world.

"That hurt, you know." 

"Did it?" Tseng replied, innocently tossing the rock in the air, "Any more comments? No? Good. I think I've made myself clear before about Aeris and I."

"Sweet! VICTORY IS MINE!" Reno said, triumphantly, "So, Aeris. Wanna go see Loveless with me Saturday?"

"Loveless? Aren't tickets for that impossible to get? I thought there was a three year waiting period..."

"Hey, it's me." Reno answered smoothly.

Tseng snorted, "So who'd you sleep with?"

"No one." a pause, "The Assistant Director." this garnered knowing looks from Tseng and Aeris, "Okay, let's not split hairs on how I got them. I did and I want to take my Girl." 

Aeris grinned, "Sure you don't want to take the Assistant Director?" 

"She's not my girl."

"Neither am I."

"Is that a no?"

"You bet it is." 

"AW! COME _ON_!" 

"Leave her alone, Reno. No means no. And according to Wutai tradition, you're supposed to ask her older brother for permission before dating a girl." Tseng said, his face reflecting complete seriousness, belying the humor within his sparkling black eyes. 

Aeris picked up on this and extended the joke, "He's right. Rules are rules." 

"You're kidding, right?" Reno asked, unsure whether or not to believe either of them. "You're not kidding. Fine, can I go out with Aeris?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you're a punk." 

The three of them slowly made their way out the tiny church, teasing each other as they went. Memories were made that night, soon to become bittersweet reminders of lost youth. No matter how jaded, there is always innocence to be lost. Always those things we keep sacred and vaulted within our hearts, only to be stolen from us or defiled either by our own foolishness or the malicious intent of another. Five years, years that would change these three lives. What difference could five years really make?

In the still dark, none of this mattered. All that did was the fleeting merriment of those who could be called friend. The two Turks had insisted upon walking Aeris home. She seemed flattered but also horribly embarrassed, and just a little reluctant. Tseng knew where she lived and informed her of it--he'd spent much of his time there as a child. If she was worried about them letting Shinra know of her whereabouts, she had no reason to worry. Tseng would never tell them. It was a matter of life and death for him. 

With Sephiroth's departure her safety from him was at least somewhat assured. However, she wasn't safe from Hojo and he had thought of something that would keep her out of his hands, at least for a little while. The only hitch was, her mother had to sign off on the papers. 

The reception from Elmyra once the little band reached her home was less than pleasant. Tseng couldn't blame her; the Turks had bad reputations besides the fact that they'd been hunting her daughter for the last year or more. Somehow, Aeris managed to smooth things over, it was her special talent and though the tension remained palpable, no plates were thrown. 

Tseng outlined his plan and he could tell that Aeris and her mother didn't seem too enthused. Aeris's name was to be submitted to the pool of potential Turk recruits. He'd have to have Elmyra file it for him, as his name attached to it would draw too much attention. There was argument on the matter but Tseng was patient, answering all questions and doubts calmly. In the end they'd agreed, because it would require little in the way of commitment from either of them. In fact, their complete lack of interest might serve them better than if they wanted it. 

Turks were normally hired because of their skill and prowess as fighters. A Turk was rarely hired because they wanted to be one; they were hired because they deserved to be one. The only exception had been Carl and by now, he'd been taken care of. The fact that Aeris didn't want to be a Turk would be to their advantage. Allowing the Turks to "pursue" her for her talent, yet allowing them to fail without censure. 

It would also be the beginning of a voluminous ball of red tape that would stymie Hojo's efforts to wrest control of her files for quite some time. Tseng hoped at least five years or more. It'd give him time to think of a more permanent solution. What a difference five years would make. What a difference indeed. 

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

--Author's notes--

Well, here we are again. I'd like to thank my dear husband for his assist on this chapter. Take him to Clarksville was one of his. I wanted a really cool way for Tseng to indicate that Carl was to be taken to the train graveyard to be offed. He came up with that little gem and the rest is history. Oh--FYI on that little quote. If anyone gets the reference in Take him to Clarksville, they get a cookie. Also, if you find the Mad Max--Beyond Thunderdome ref, you'll also get a cookie and perhaps a hug. 

I have to say this, I really, really love writing for the Turks. Tseng and Reno kick all sorts of ass. Especially Reno. He's so fricking fun to write for. All I have to do is let him go and it's friggin' gold. I loves Reno, I loves him good. I'm thinking of starting on a joint venture with my husband featuring the Turks. It'd be a departure from all my other works. 

Most of my work tends to explore the more mystical side of the Final Fantasy universe. I kind of like the magical aspect and characters like Aeris and Sephiroth fascinate me because they have distinctly non-human choices to make--yet at their core, they are human. So I find the conflict interesting. 

However, with this Turk story, I want to sort of show a grittier side to the FF universe. Explore the more human side of things, if you will. The story itself will be less a running story line and more about vignettes. It'll deal with Turk missions that have little or nothing at all to do with Final Fantasy 7 as a game. The style will approximate Pulp Fiction, only not as I'm not into plagiarism. I guess I'm saying, the feel of the story should be the same. In any event, keep an eye out. We're working on the details as we speak. 


	11. The Paths We Tread

Morning broke cool and clear; the air was crisp and so cold that it almost made it hard to breath. The craggy peaks of the Nibel mountain range towered over the valley, casting looming shadows over the town that stood just beneath its winding spires. Clear rays of ebullient sunshine rose from the shadows, unfurling in concentric waves and painting the light dusting of snow on the ground a brilliant pale blue. This was an unusually beautiful mid-February morning for Nibelheim.

For the last three weeks all they'd had was fierce winter storms. The sky obliterated by swirling masses of snow and ice, spurred on by the fierce winds known so well by the locals. It was those winds that made the winter so hard and the mountains surrounding the town so dangerous. Locals called them the Noreasters. Penetrating winter storms, characterized by heavy snowfall, subzero temperatures and hurricane force winds that have been known to rip trees from the very soil they were rooted in. These storms start around mid-January and taper down around April or May, generally, and usually continue without interruption for the entire length of winter until the spring dig-out.

This morning the residents of Nibelheim woke to a great surprise when they walked out their doors. Never had a sky been so clear, even during the best months of spring and summer. The sun peaked just behind the mountains, tinting the lavender blue sky with touches of pink and gold. Old timers in the village exclaimed upon waking that this was a bad omen. Many of the elders still believed the old folktales about the mountains. The lore was that the only thing that stood between Mount Nibel's angry mountain spirit and the town was the fog that covered its peaks. Of course, only the very young, very old or hopelessly superstitious believed in such nonsense.

Though the rather ominous reputation of the Nibel Mountains was richly deserved. They were notoriously hard to climb, with slick rock walls and few handholds, and of course, the vicious and unpredictable winds that buffeted the range year round. In years past, when people still tried to make a living off the mountains, it was expected that at least a couple of people a year would die or get injured trying to best the peaks. Lately the town had switched industries. From mining to the commercial resort industry, as adventure seekers from Midgar and other places around the world came to climb the most challenging range in the world.

Recently, the climbing had become more difficult due to the increase in monster activity in the general area. During the harsh winter months, this meant little, as few tourists would dare the Nibel Mountains, with the exception of foolhardy thrill seekers who wanted to test death. This winter there were tests a plenty. A month ago an entire party of twenty thrill junkies had been mauled and killed by rogue Nibel wolves. The offending creatures had been hunted down and killed, but there was worry that once the summer months came that with more tourists would come more attacks.

Already news of the incident had reached the outside papers, and several tours had been cancelled. It wasn't just the loss of revenue and the possible threat to the town's economy. The monsters in the area had become less fearful. Some had even been spotted waltzing through town without a care in the world. Local house pets had gone missing and a little girl had lost her arm the week before when she ventured too far out into her backyard.

Residents had called a town meeting, insisting on answers on why this was happening and what the local government was to do about it.  There was a rather cursory investigation into the matter that resulted in little actual action--other than shutting down all roads to the mountain and closing the hot springs. No answers were given and the locals were left up to their own devices to find out what was going on in their town. A group of disgruntled neighbors had banded together, lead by the richest and most influential man in town, Aidan Lockheart.

He was the owner and operator of Peake Travel, the largest tour and travel agency in the area. Peake sold tour packages to rich day trippers, who wanted nothing more than a relaxing mountain view, pleasant hikes and a soak in their legendary hot springs to top it off. Though he did offer packages to the adventure set, his main targets were the incredibly wealthy and it was these clients that kept Nibelheim afloat economically.

High rollers from Midgar weren't willing to spend their bank in a city that was dangerous and plagued with wild animal roaming about, mauling the populace. It was his business that had suffered because of these attacks. Already fourteen of his most important clients had cancelled their tours. Rebooking with other agencies for vacations in safer locals, like the old standby, Costa Del Sol, and the burgeoning ski resorts in Icicle Village. The loss of these accounts would severely damage his finances, besides the fact that he had a teenage daughter to worry about. An incredibly impetuous and strong willed teenaged daughter, who'd taken to practicing her martial arts in the hills near the mountain.

Aidan had taken the initiative and arranged an expedition to investigate the mountains, to try and find out where all the monsters were coming from. After a good solid month of work, they located the center of activity. The old Shinra Mako reactor. It seemed that the damned thing hadn't been turned off properly and had been leaking for quite some time. The heat had attracted prey animals, which consequently attracted their predators. Once the prey had been hunted out, the predators had no other choice but to turn to the next available food source. Nibelheim's human population.

With this information in hand, Aidan had stormed into the mayor's office demanding results. The mayor could hardly refuse Aidan, without Lockheart's support, he'd never get reelected. So Shinra had been called back in to fix the ailing reactor and take care of the rampant monster population. It'd been rumored that they were going to send General Sephiroth himself to take care of things. The town had burst into a frenzy of activity in preparation for the arrival of their illustrious guest.

Tifa Lockheart, the teenaged daughter of the man who started this whole business, stared out her bedroom window with disgust. Ever since the town got the news of the great general's arrival, the town was abuzz with chatter about him and Shinra...and how great they were. And how kind it was they'd send someone as famous and important to little old Nibelheim. The neighbors all got busy trying to out do each other. The town had been called on to help neaten up common streets and buildings. Not to mention the vacuous preening seen not only amongst the teen girl set, who wanted nothing more than a single glimpse of the great general, but adults as well.

Tifa had tired of hearing her "friends" go on and on about Sephiroth and how handsome he was and brave and noble and...so on and so forth. It was enough to make her want to puke until she dry heaved. Her father had been more than just a little displeased by her attitude but Tifa could care less. She had no interest in the petty good neighbor bullshit everyone else engaged in. She'd long ago lost her taste for keeping up appearances.

There was a time in her life when something like Shinra coming to town would have been exciting. She was in part glad those days were over, but the wiser side of her knew that those were days of innocence, now lost, and to be glad for such a thing was a sadness in and of itself. A mere two years ago, she'd been a completely different person. She was a rather shallow, image conscious, pretty girl. Dressing in the latest Midgar fashion and worrying about her nails. Then her mother died and her world fell apart.

She rarely talked about the event itself, and had at the time secluded herself from friends and family rather than face her mother's death. Sarea Lockheart was a remarkable woman, and her daughter's best friend. She had shared everything with her mother. Even at her busiest times, when a test loomed or plans with friends intervened; Tifa would always find that spare moment to tell Sarea about her day. And she would listen, whether or not she was interested was another story, but she had always acted like she was.

She was a warm and giving woman, kind to a fault. Sarea was well liked in the village, even though she wasn't born there, a feat for a secluded mountain town like Nibelheim, which tended to be a bit xenophobic. The young girl idolized her mother and wanted to be just like her, do the things she did. In all ways emulating the paragon of beauty and kindness that Sarea encompassed. Often after her mother's death, she'd find herself staring at her portraits and wondering if she'd ever be able to match her in quality.

Tifa had found that she always came up short. Her mother was so perfect and there was a guilt-ridden bit of resentment in that fact. While she was alive, Tifa strived to please the woman, to be as perfect as she could be. Once her mother had died, she found herself consciously rebelling against her mother's image. The resentment at her mother's insistence on perfection was at the heart of it. She was a good mother but could be as cold as she was warm and as much as she admired her mother, she hated the way she seemed preoccupied with appearances. Sarea had raised her to be the ideal lady, demanding that at all times she obey an arcane set of rules in order for her to nab a rich husband. Tifa had found it hard to live up to her mother's expectations, which meant that she was constantly correcting her.

 The cool glares and disapproving coughs she'd make when Tifa would make a mistake at the dinner table were foremost in her mind. She remembered one time when she'd used her dinner fork to eat her salad. Her mother had berated her for an hour afterwards about the importance of using the right dinnerware. Stating that she'd never get a husband with such terrible manners. She could hear the soft voice of her dead mother reverberating in her memory. "_Posture Tifara. Young ladies don't slouch over their meals._" She could always tell how much trouble she was in by the iterations of her name. If she called her Tifa, she was okay but if it got to Tifara, her full name, or worse yet, Tifara Marie Lockheart, then she knew she'd really screwed the pooch. Sarea never raised her voice. She never had to. All she had to do was give Tifa a look, a word, and the damage would be done. She used guilt like a weapon; her taciturn disapproval was enough to send the young girl into a fit of tears. She knew her mother was only worried about her future but it still stung that things of such triviality mattered so much. Didn't the stories always say that appearances didn't matter; it was what was in your heart that counted?

There were times when Tifa would see past the superficial side to her mother. There was a sense, especially nearing the end of her mother's long sickness that Sarea wasn't entirely happy with where she was in life. She'd look into her mother's dull black eyes and see it. Tifa could remember many of the stories her mother used to tell her when she was young. Vivid tales of world spanning adventure, of kings and queens long past. Her eyes would light up in the telling and the echo of a girl long secreted away would peek from behind her mother's facade. She was still young, her dreams not yet challenged by adult responsibility.

Her favorite was the War of the Magi. One of her mother's longer tales, detailing a group of heroes who banded together and defeated a mad man bent on becoming a god. She remembered her favorite part. When Locke, the main protagonist, risked his life to save his true love, the magi-tech knight, Celes. Saving her from a terrible fall as the palace where their enemy lived crumbled to the ground upon his defeat.

_You needn't have helped me; I can take care of myself_...

..._I know_. _And then Locke scooped her up into a tight embrace before leaving the shattered remnants of the tower_....

She had always blushed terribly at that part, wondering what it would be like to be held like that by someone she loved. The story evoked wonderful dreams of adventure, and she wished to be like Celes in the story. A strong warrior with a heart of gold with the man she loved always by her side. Tifa used to pretend to be Celes, slipping an old nightgown over her head to approximate the pale blond hair her hero had. Wooden sword in hand, she'd run around her backyard, swiping at imaginary dragons. When she was young she used to dream that someday, she'd find her Locke and he'd save her, just like the real Locke saved Celes.  She'd even made one of the village boys promise her he'd save her someday. Cloud Strife. That was his name.

August Strife, his mother, was not spoken well of in the village and neither was Cloud. He was a bastard or as her parents had put it to her, he was born out of wedlock. When Tifa was younger she'd never known what that had meant, she'd only known that her mother and father seemed to think it a bad thing. They told her to stay away from Cloud, so she did. It didn't help that most of the other kids in the village seemed to have equal dislike for him because he was poor.

At the time, she followed the crowd and shunned the boy, but there was a pang of regret every time she did. Tifa had always been acutely aware of other's pain. She couldn't help but notice the lonely longing in Cloud's large blue eyes whenever the other children would leave him out of their games. There was once when she even went over and invited him to play, but the other children had pulled her away. She never stopped kicking herself for letting them but she was still caught up in her mother's world, and hadn't resisted.

Then _it_ happened. It was a bright, almost joyous spring day. May second, it was a Tuesday...she remembered that, the day before her birthday. Around four o'clock her father had sent her up to bring her mother tea and her normal cocktail of medicines. Tifa had dutifully obeyed. Everything had seemed so fine. She closed her eyes, recalling how the sun had shone through the window and illuminated her mother's pale form. Sarea had taken her tea and vitamins; she had looked so tired that day. The normal routine was that afterwards, she'd take a nap and so Tifa had taken away the dishes and prepared to leave when her mother stopped her.

"Do you remember those stories I used to tell you when you were little?"

"Of course, Mama." Tifa found herself mouthing her memory self's words.

"They weren't just stories you know. They were true. The women in my family have passed on the tales of our ancestors from one generation to the next. To keep the memories alive....Someday, that honor will pass to you."

"Not for a long time, though...right?"

Sarea smiled sadly, her voice slurring slightly as she spoke,  "I don't think so. Promise me you'll remember...."

"Sure, of course...Mama....is something...are you okay?"

She nodded slowly, and Tifa could still see the odd tranquility in her mother's eyes. "Promise me something else. Promise me that no matter what, you'll follow your dreams, Tifa. You can do whatever you want to...." At this sentiment, her mother had reached out and held her hand, squeezing gently as she gazed at her daughter through a haze of obvious pain, "I know I've always expected you to stay here, but something tells me...you're destined for greater things. I believe that. So please, promise me...follow your star...don't let your dreams die like I did..."

"I promise, Mama..." Tifa said, her heart quickening as it dawned on her that something wasn't right.

The pressure from her mother's hand went slack and as Tifa looked into her mother's eyes, she could see the light leave them as she breathed her last excruciatingly long breath. There was a terrible moment of silence that followed, where she wasn't sure what had just happened. She shook her head slowly as if to negate what clearly had transpired. The tears came then, holding themselves at the edge, ready to spill.

"Mama...." she said, her voice cracking. "Mama....Mama, please....Mama..." She shook her mother's hand, as if somehow that would help. "No....NoNoNoNonononono..." she repeated the word, over and over again, her mind swirling in hysterical denial as tears streamed down her cheeks in red hot rivulets.

Shaking, Tifa dropped her mother's hand and ran as fast as she could to find her father but by the time he arrived with the paramedics it was too late. The medics worked fruitlessly on her mother in a desperate appeal to bring back life and Tifa stood there, as still as stone.  When they put her mother into a big black body bag, she'd fainted. In the days after, she remembered very little, she'd gone entirely numb and the world passed as time slipped by. She could still hear the eerie wail of the heart monitor as it screeched out in one long sustained note and the image of her mother's face as the black bag was zipped over it never left her memory.

The service was held two days later and Tifa had hardly felt a thing. She hadn't cried at the funeral, nor did she in the days that passed by. Perhaps it was unwillingness on her part to accept the inevitability of the end of life; at least that's what everyone thought. It was a natural reaction to deny the passing of a loved one, a single step along the path of grief. However, Tifa _had_ accepted her mother's death, it settled into her bones like a dull lead weight. She saw the life leave her eyes and no volume of tears shed would bring her back.

Death is the great equalizer.  It takes people who are important to you and no matter how much you scream and cry nothing changes that. For as young as she was, she was amazingly perceptive and had already made this connection. Crying would do her no good. Holding her grief in her heart, she had to be strong for her father, who'd fallen apart at the seams. In the long days and weeks following, she became very much like her last name. She locked her heart, shut it off from the world and threw away the key. She stood over her mother's grave, thinking all those things as a breeze lifted her bangs from her face. How could things change so fast? One day she was going through the normal routines. The next, her life was turned upside down.

Things had changed, for good or for ill. Tifa still wasn't really sure which it was. Sometimes she'd actually forget her mother was dead. On more than one occasion she'd find herself racing up to her mother's old room. Grasping the ornate handle on the door and just before she'd open it, she'd remember. She never told her father about those instances. He was too fragile already and she'd tried to remain bright and happy for him. Masking her pain and focusing all her effort on easing his. She had tried so hard to put everything back the way it was before but it was no use. Tried to be perfect, like her mother but no matter how hard she tried, that was something she'd never be.

There _was_ one way in which she was very much like her mother; some would say she surpassed Sarea in that one area. Tifa was a very beautiful girl; the aura of tragedy only heightened that perception. Tall for her age, with an oval shaped face and high cheekbones, not to mention her early development in the chest region, she was in a word. Desirable. She'd always been sought after. Boys competing for her attention like they would for a medal in a track race. Her recent loss hadn't stopped the deluge of young men who wanted her attention. If anything, the interest focused on her increased alarmingly. All the boys in town wanted to be the one to "comfort" her and the girls, her supposed friends, only came because they were hoping to snatch up the leftovers.

It didn't take her long to realize that none of the people who visited her gave a good god damn if she felt better. They were here because she was rich and beautiful and they hoped to gain something from her. Liars and sycophants, the whole lot of them. Tifa learned all too quickly about the ugliness of humanity, and she hated it. It was disgusting. Horrifying that these..._people_...if they could be called that, would play on _her_ pain to further their own agenda. The worst part was that they expected her to feel better right away. As if _I'm sorry your mom died and I hope you feel better_, was going to actually make the grief she felt disappear. She couldn't stand it and rather than try to continue on as if nothing had happened, she locked herself away. Becoming a virtual prisoner of her own home, her "friends" banging on the door begging to be let in. Her mother's death had placed before her a decision and she couldn't do that with the expectation of others weighing on her shoulders. When she finally emerged from her self-induced seclusion, the girl they'd all grown to love, the girl they knew was gone. Dead and in the box, like her mother.

It started with all her clothes. Every last dress was thrown out or given away. She had once been so fond of dressing up, concerned with appearance and the superficial values of looking good for boys. Every last scrap of her former identity was tossed, as she transformed herself into what she wanted to become. Tifa had scoured the local thrift shops for more simple clothes. Jeans and t-shirts, practical clothing that placed little emphasis on her beauty, picked for their comfortability rather than their label. No more make up, no more hours of preening over hair and face. This new Tifa was simple, almost tomboyish. The only vestiges of who she used to be was her long chocolate hair and a pair of simple silver earrings. Beyond that, this girl was a stranger and those who knew her before had openly gapped in surprise when they first saw her walk out her front door.

Where there was once a shallow, vacuous little nothing of a girl, now stood a young woman with a mission. Her mother's last words resonated and had stayed with her. They had been a plea for her to become more than just another suburban good wife. More than just a pretty girl. _Don't end up like me. Tied, shackled to a life you never even wanted. Sacrificing your dreams for comfort._ Her mother had said it, not in so many words, but that message was behind them.

This change extended to more than just the way she looked. Tifa held herself differently, more sorrowful but stronger somehow. She began to apply herself like never before in school. Forgoing shopping trips or visits to the local arcade to gawp at boys, for studying. Her grades had gone from low C's and D's, to straight A's. It had impressed her father and her teachers, and thoroughly confused her friends. Those people soon showed their loyalty. As she succeeded in school and cared less about appearances, they slunk away from her. She lost friends but gained something else. Confidence.

They were afraid of what she'd become and it surprised Tifa that she didn't really care if they liked her or not. Without an ever-changing social calendar, she was able to help her father more. She took over the bookkeeping, which had been her mother's job and found that she was very good at it. Numbers, unlike everything else in the world, were simple. Some would call it tedious or boring but Tifa had found that it was kind of fun, she liked handling the money and making sure the books balanced at the end of the day. The meticulous nature of the work made it easy to forget, to push aside the roiling tide of emotions in favor of the cool calculations found in numbers. Plus, she got to spend more time with her Dad, and it made him happy to see his daughter interested in his work. The paycheck at the end of the week didn't hurt either.

With her newfound outlook on life and confidence in herself, Tifa found the courage to finally talk at length with Cloud. The friends she had left didn't understand and most didn't stick around to ask her. She didn't care. From now on, she'd talk to whom she wanted, when she wanted. This was her world now, not her mother's, not her friends--her life, her choices. So she had invited him out to the old junkyard to talk. She was surprised when he came, expecting that her rejection of him years earlier would make him bitter and longing for payback. But he came, moreover he came with a smile and it was incredible.

They talked, about anything and everything as if they'd been friends forever. He was reserved yet amiable enough once you gave him time, with a rather dry sense of humor that Tifa could fully appreciate. Never tried to impress her by being extra witty or flamboyant. She felt comfortable with him, letting down many of her normally high walls as their conversation deepened.

He'd been the only one who hadn't bothered her after her mother's death. She'd sometimes see him watching her window but he never approached her door. Never stopped her on the street to ask if she was alright, only to turn the concern right around and ask if she'd like to go out on a date. He'd just stop, look up and then leave. As if he was letting her know that he was there if she wanted him to be. It was half the reason she'd asked him out here.

The conversation had somehow turned to her mother, and for the first time she talked about it with another person. He listened, by god, he sat and he _actually_ listened. There were no attempts to put an arm around her, no hands on her shoulder, no false promises that everything would be alright. His large blue eyes regarding her with real sympathy. She half expected him to say what everyone else said, I'm sorry...but he didn't. He didn't say a word for a long time, the look in his eyes telling her that he knew I'm sorry was a hollow sentiment and that things were far from alright. To say such things would be to lie and he knew that she didn't need little white lies when she longed for someone to admit the truth. He took her hand and told her it was okay to cry, if she wanted to. And she did. She cried longer and harder than she had in her entire life. When he finally held her, it was only because she'd been the one to initiate it. Leaning on his shoulder as she shook free the tears she held back for well over six months.

She remembered the moment when he looked down at her, after her tears subsided. How his clear blue eyes swirled with longing. For the first time, noticing what a handsome young man he'd grown into. Her heart had fluttered, her stomach twirling with butterflies as she returned his gaze. They'd shared a single, chaste kiss that night underneath a curtain of stars. Afterwards, he told her he was leaving to join SOLDIER and Tifa felt as if her heart would swell and break. To finally find the one person in the world who would understand her, only to loose him in the same instant. He told her why he was doing it. To become strong, like General Sephiroth. Tifa knew it was a lie and so did he. He did it for her.

Cloud knew what he was. A poor boy with no resources, no honor. Despite her outward change, Tifa came from a wealthy family and there was no way her father would accept Cloud. No way he'd be good enough for his daughter. If he made something of himself, became a SOLDIER. He'd be worthy of Tifa, at least in the eyes of her family. She would have given up everything for him in that moment, but he didn't want that. He couldn't ask her to leave the only family she had left. So his solution for such a problem was to make himself a better man.

It killed her that he'd leave and that she'd wasted so much time being shallow and self-absorbed. If only she'd been brave enough to break free, perhaps then it wouldn't be this way. To find her Locke, the key to her heart, only to loose him. She made him promise to come back and rescue her from this town. Though she tried to fob it off, make it sound like he would rescue her from some kind of danger...but that wasn't what she meant at all. Looking down at her, the stars reflected in his eyes as he gave her his promise, "_As you wish_." It was all that he said, like a line straight out of her mother's fairy tales.

Every day after that was a waiting game. She'd received a few letters from him that sounded promising, but in recent weeks they'd come less and less often. In his absence she'd decided to become stronger as well. Just after he'd left, a man named Zangan had stopped in Nibelheim. He was a wandering martial arts instructor. Teaching from town to town for food, or shelter. Tifa had used the money she saved from her paychecks to buy herself lessons, much to her father's dismay.

Then one of his best guides quit and her father was left with a paying batch of tourists and no tour leader. Tifa had volunteered and he objected, until of course she gave him a demonstration of her new skills with the "help" of one of the local boys. From that day forward she became not only the agency's accountant but their main tour guide. It was widely regarded that she knew the mountains better than Aidan himself, who'd spent the better half of his life on those peaks. This was due to her the training regimen Zangan had set. She'd spent quite some time with her sifu, climbing the peaks in search of monsters to best. It didn't make Aidan very happy to realize what danger his daughter put herself in, but he knew she was a capable fighter--her demonstration had shown him that and he wasn't willing to risk argument with her. She was as stubborn as her mother had been and in the end, she'd get what she wanted anyway.

Tifa shook her head, she was wasting time and Zangan didn't appreciate it when she was late. Turning away from the window, Tifa dressed quickly. Pulling on a pair of long underwear before slipping into a pair of heavy cotton slacks and a plain charcoal colored sweater. With a thump, she sat on the floor and stuffed her feet into a pair of heavy wool socks before putting on her hiking boots. Downstairs she could hear the sounds of movement and cursed herself for not getting up earlier. Her father would be awake and no doubt find a way to make her later.

"TIFA?" he called up to her.

"YEAH?"

"COULD YOU COME DOWN HERE A MINTUE?"

"_Shit_!" she cursed under her breath, "YEAH SURE DAD! BE RIGHT THERE!"

Jumping to her feet, she looked at herself in the mirror for a moment before picking out a single brown ribbon from the top of her dressing table. Carefully, she used the ribbon to secure back her hair into a loose ponytail. The knot she used was tight enough to keep it out of her eyes, but not so tight that it wouldn't fall out if yanked sharply by an opponent. Important considerations one had to make as a martial artist with long hair. Satisfied, she grabbed her fighting gloves before leaving the room and jogging down the stairs to see what her father wanted. She found him sitting in the breakfast nook in the kitchen, stuffing a jam-covered piece of toast into his mouth.

Tifa couldn't help herself, she giggled, "Mornin' Dad...you know, most _normal_ people take more than one bite when they eat."

"Zif iz moah efizzshunt....an goo moning to oo too..." He mumbled, still chewing the entire piece of toast he'd shoved into his maw.

"It's gross, Dad...not efficient. Really, really gross." She said, with a mock-exasperated roll of her eyes as she entered and walked past the nook to the kitchen proper, resting her gloves on the counter next to the entrance.

"Sahm-bady hazh zher gwuhmpy panhtz ahn...." He replied, a small smile appearing on his face, as he took extra long to chew just to tease her.

Tifa looked back at him, raising an eyebrow while she rummaged through the cupboards for her own breakfast, pulling out a bag of bagels, a knife and a small plate. "Spaz. Swallow that crap before you choke."

He began to laugh, only to cough out bits of toast crumbs that he'd choked on. The sputtering only stopping one he took one long swig of orange juice.

"Told you." She said in a singsong voice as she shuffled over to the center counter of the kitchen, which amongst other odds and ends was where they kept the toaster.

Slipping a bagel from the package, she looked up at her father, who was sipping his orange juice but had turned his attention from teasing her to some papers spread over the small breakfast table.  For the moment, they remained in silence. Him reading his papers and her waiting for her breakfast to pop up. Tifa amused herself by humming an old tune she'd heard at the last festival, banging her hands in time as she watched the toaster. Her father glanced up and shook his head with a smile, to which she stuck her tongue out and he laughed.

Their relationship was an easy thing, smooth and with very few bumps in the road. She loved her father for all the indefinable reasons one loves a parent, but also because despite his frail emotional condition after her mother's death, he'd been there for her. He was _always_ there for her. In those long, dark days, her father was all she had to turn to and vice versa. They clung to each other as the vine clings to the tree during a storm. Aidan wasn't at all like other people's fathers. He wasn't stern or authoritative, never telling her to eat up or go to bed. That had been Sarea's job. She'd been the serious disciplinarian; her father was and always had been her partner in crime. 

The toast popped up with a surprisingly loud thunk, jarring Tifa from the well of thought she'd fallen into. Carefully she lifted it from the toaster and with a hiss she transferred it quickly to the plate, blowing her slightly burnt fingers as she reached for her knife. Hastily buttering the bagel, she took her plate and joined her father at the small table but not before stopping to grab a cup. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat in the chair directly opposite her father.

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

"Maps..." he said, absently.

Tifa shrugged, after two years she'd become an accurate judge of her father's mood. He wasn't ready to talk about whatever he'd called her down for and he'd get to it in his own time. Aidan was a man you couldn't push to do something; you just waited until he was good and ready. In some ways, Tifa was the same way. So she turned to look out the of the nook's large bay windows, warming rays of morning sunshine caressing her face as she chewed her bagel. The view out this part of the kitchen had always been nice and Tifa lost herself in it for a moment.

"AH! SHIT IN HEAVEN!"

Her father's voice snapped her from her short reverie, "What?!"

"Spilled juice all over the maps. Could you...?" he asked, holding his wet and dripping hand out to her in a gesture of helplessness.

"Sure." she replied, dark eyes dancing with amusement while she strode over to the sink, grabbing a towel from a nearby drawer and wetting it,  "You know, you're worse than a two year old."

He smirked at her and once she came back to the table, towel in hand, he stuck out his tongue in a childish mirror of her own actions earlier. "To think I'd have such a disrespectful daughter....You shouldn't talk to your father like that."

"Hey, you're the putz who raised me to be honest and speak my mind." She said with a laugh as she handed him the towel. "_Really_ not my fault."

He took it and looked up at her with admiration, taking the towel and wiping the maps off as he replied, "So, I shot _myself_ in the foot, then?"

"Yup." She chirped, letting a sweet smile spread over her face, " Is it salvageable?"

"Yeah, think so. Might be a bit sticky...."

"Could be worse." she said with a shrug, "So, I'm tired with the pussyfooting. What's the deal, schmeal?"

"What deal?"

"Why you called me down here?! I mean, breakfast....YEEHAW!" a pause, "There _was_ more to this than breakfast, _wasn't _there?" She eyed him suspiciously, wondering if it might be another one of his practical jokes. He was fond of playing tricks on her like that. One time he'd reset her clock and her alarm, waking her at what she thought to be the normal six in the morning when it was really almost two.

He thought for a moment, unaware of his daughter's mistrustful glares, "Huh? OH YEAH! I wanted to talk to you about the itinerary for the expedition this afternoon."

"What itinerary?"

"The one those nice people from Shinra are coming out all this way for?"

"Oh, _that_." She replied flatly, clearly annoyed at not only the subject but the fact that he'd actually have questions about it. Tifa had prided herself on being thorough. "What's there to talk about? I thought my itinerary was pretty self-explanatory."

"Well, I'm concerned about the route you have planned." He said, knowing her temper was as quick as his own and already sensing her growing ire.

"What's wrong with the route?"

"I think it's too prudent." he said, laying out the map to demonstrate, "You have them starting at the Moorehouse trailhead. So I assume you'll be using the old Hoffmaster trail, which is on the western face. The reactor is on the northeastern side. You'll practically have to travel around the entire mountain to get to it."

"So what? Hoffmaster is the safest route and you know it."

"The safest route isn't always the best."

"In this case it is...I don't trust those twits from Shinra to be able to handle any of the other routes. The great high and mighty General Sephiroth _might_--and I stress might-- be able to make a go of it, but there'll be three other soldiers with him and god knows their level of skill. Hoffmaster will be the easiest climb."

"Well, it's not really up to me or you to decide that. Hoffmaster will put you all on the mountain for three solid days. Shinra brass wants them up to fix the reactor STAT."

"I thought about that....that's why Hoffmaster is better. It gets them to the reactor and takes them past possible monster dens. Two birds, one stone."

He shook his head, "Sorry, sweets. They want them up and down for the reactor. Monster recon apparently comes later." he paused, wincing at her angry glare, "My hands are tied. They came with the provision they'd approve all route choices."

"Fine. Which route then?" She replied, her mood turning from gregarious to morose.

"I was thinking the Highroad would be a good choice."

"THE HIGHROAD!? Are you nuts? That route is downright dangerous."

"You're exaggerating."

"Not really. Then again, I guess if I fall off one of the bridges-- _this_ time you can blame Shinra and not Cloud."

"Tifa." Aidan said, a warning tone in his voice indicating that she'd gone too far.

"I'm sorry, Da. But the bridges up there were rickety and unstable when I was a kid." She said, sighing, "Plus the crosswinds on that side are vicious...What if we get up there and those bridges are down? I don't know about you, but I don't have any desire to try and cross one of those big crevices on that side with a bunch of greenhorns."

"I know....I.Know. It makes me nervous too but this is the route they approved."

Tifa's mood soured completely and what began as a mildly promising morning was turned to pure shit in the span of ten minutes. She went about chewing the last bit of her bagel before getting up wordlessly.

"Tifa....Tifa..." Her father called after her and she paused at the entrance, where she'd left her gloves, "Teef...don't get that way with me. You know it's not that I don't trust you. I agree, but...."

"It's a bad idea. This whole thing." She interjected quietly, her back turned to him. "Did you even argue with them? Or did you just cave in right away?"

"Teef...You know me better than that. I didn't have a choice. They want them up and down in less than a day. If we didn't agree to it, they wouldn't have come at all."

She folded her arms over her chest and turned slowly, her eyes were darkly serious, "It's their damn reactor! There shouldn't be any provisions for fixing their own equipment. _They_ were the ones who didn't turn it off properly, _they_ left it to rot for twenty odd years leaking like a bloody awful sieve, and when the shit hits the fan they act like they're doing us a god damned favor by fixing _THEIR_ problem! It's bullshit."

"Tifa, I've already heard enough of this argument."

"What, that we should have just blown the damned thing up? Because right now, that's starting to sound like a heck of a plan."

"It wasn't funny when Quinlan brought it up and it certainly isn't funny when you do. This discussion has ended." her father replied, tersely.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever. Mark my words, this is a bad idea and it will end like all bad ideas do."

"Well, if you're so damned opposed to it, I'll go."

"I'm opposed to the route. I'm opposed to having Shinra involved and all their 'provisions'. But that doesn't mean I won't go."

Her father remained quiet, staring at the maps with seeming deep concentration but she knew all to well what it was. He was letting himself simmer down. Cooling his anger before speaking out of turn. The cool silence was a distant cousin to her own battles with her temper, that struggle to find something to silence the bitter rage that wanted nothing more than to be released. Tifa sighed deeply, knowing that she couldn't win this round or any round after it. Her father had made up his mind and against all logic, she'd do what he said. Though she couldn't fathom why in the world he'd commit to the plan Shinra had set up. It was insane. The Highroad had been closed for years, ever since she'd fallen off of it when she was eight. She, Cloud and a bunch of other kids had gone up to the Highroad to get to the reactor. For the life of her she couldn't remember why they'd gone and climbed the mountain. She remembered vaguely some story about a ghost and someone having the bright idea to catch one.

They'd gone on the Highroad because it was rarely used because it was so dangerous and to little kids it seemed spooky and mysterious for that very reason. The winds were high that day and in her mind's eye she could see herself setting a foot onto the suspension bridge with trepidation just before it broke underneath her foot. She'd broken her leg in the fall and was in traction for the rest of the summer. When her father had asked the other kids what had happened, they blamed Cloud. Tifa had tried to set it to rights afterwards, but being unconscious for two straight weeks had its disadvantages.

She cracked her knuckles in defeat, "Listen, I'm sorry I was a witsy bit bitchy. I know you tried really hard...and Shinra's just made it harder for you, plus with the mayor on your back...It's just..."

"That route makes you nervous. I know...that whole area makes me nervous." her father replied, his shoulders sagging, "I never understood why they left it running...shoulda turned it off when they left twenty years ago...Strange things have always followed the Shinra name and now...I'm just worried that..." he stopped, as if realizing he'd said too much, "Nevermind. Nothing to worry about."

"Dad?" she questioned, softly approaching him and placing a hand on his arm.

Her father smiled and put a hand over hers, patting it gently, "It's nothing. You're going to be late for practice. I'm sorry we fought."

"Me too. Is everything going to be alright?" She looked up at him, her eyes large and impossibly dark.

"Of course it is, sweetie. Of course it is." He said, running a hand through her hair and pulling his daughter close.

For one moment she actually looked the age she was supposed to be. She'd tried hard to hide the fact that she'd taken on so much responsibility. The innocence she should have at age fifteen had been stolen from her and weak man that he was, he'd depended on her instead of the other way around. He was a lucky father but at the same time he lamented that her childhood had been cut so short. Sometimes she looked ten years older than she was and it killed him inside. He pulled back to take a good look at her. God, she looked just like her mother.

She gave him a quizzical look; startled by the odd gaze he was giving her, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just so damn proud of you." He sniffed, keeping any tears he might shed at bay, still gazing at her with proud, fatherly affection,  "You're growing up so fast..."

"Don't get sappy on me now, Da." she said, her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

"Oh, I'm an old man. I'm allowed to get sappy, when my daughter's turning into a young lady before my eyes." there was a smile that started out bright and cheery but slowly faded to something more somber, "Your mother would have been proud of you, too...you know."

Tifa grew very quiet, her reply was barely audible, "I know." She bowed her head so that he couldn't see her face. If she had to look at him she'd cry and that was the last thing she wanted to do right now. Especially in front of her father.

Ruffling her hair, he let her go. She held her emotions in too much and sometimes it worried him, but there was no pushing Tifa. Once she'd made up her mind, there was no changing it, "You better get going."

"Yeah. See ya later, Dad."

"Yup. Remember, you have to be back at two."

"Right." She said, lifting up her head once she got her emotions under control.

With a controlled smile, she gave him a peck on the cheek before jogging over and picking up her forgotten gloves. She gave a little wave as she exited the kitchen and started towards the foyer, where she grabbed her coat off the rack. Slipping it on quickly, she opened the front door and forged out into the cool morning, worry buried deeply in her heart.

Author's Notes

Well, here it is. My first chapter in Nibelheim and my first time writing Tifa for a story. I hope I've done well. You can kick me if I didn't. I debated whether or not to make this chapter longer and then decided just to publish what I had. It's twenty-six pages after all. Interesting note--Tifa's full name, Tifara, as I gave it here is an actual Hebrew name. Tifara means beautiful or glorious. One of the variations of Tifara is Tiferet. Tiferet is interestingly enough one of the sefirot on the tree of life as taught in the Kabbalah, a text used in some sects of Judaism. Each individual sefirot (sephira) together are collectively called sephiroth. Interesting.


	12. What You Waitin' For?

Rose tinted dawn gave way to the crisp blue of midmorning as the sun drifted far above the horizon. Cold rays of white gold light languidly draped itself over the scenery, making the tiny town below look very much like the perfect picture postcard. The trek up the small hills behind her home was well known to her. At one time it had been a challenging climb and Tifa could remember taking each step up that hill as if it were her last. Zangan had given her weighted shoes for her training and this had added to the difficulty. By now she was used to the climb and the extra weight, barely breaking a sweat as she trudged up the hillside.

The once thick wall of snow had melted, making the way up a bit easier. Tifa almost missed the thick drifts. Not only because they were beautiful but because they made the climb harder. When she'd first started, she'd whined incessantly about how difficult everything was. As the months passed, she'd stopped complaining and just accepted the fact that sometimes you just have to work hard. Nothing comes without a price, after all. Now it had become important to her to test her physical limitations. Not only because it was something that Zangan felt was important for her training, but because it was they only way she felt she'd improve. And she wanted very much to improve. She was already a good martial artist but she wanted to be the best. Tifa had never liked being second banana.

The argument with her father had receded firmly into the back of her mind, though her thoughts did stray to the Shinra contingent that would arrive today. Almost in passing, as if skipping from thought to thought, she wondered if Cloud had made SOLDIER yet. Truthfully, she didn't really care if he did. Hell, she'd be happy if he came home as a Shinra regular. Just as long as he came home.

Things had changed. She had changed. Titles didn't matter to her and she didn't care if he was poor. Didn't give a damn if her life with him would mean she'd be poor too. As long as they were together, none of that crap meant anything. It wasn't about how great the rest of the world thought you were. Great men are a dime a dozen, you can find one on any street corner. A truly good man, a _decent_ man..._that_ is hard to find. Cloud was a decent young man and she didn't care what he did. She'd love him no matter what and had even said as much in her last letter. Well, it was really more of a hint than anything else, but the sentiment was there. Tifa had always been a bit awkward expressing her true feelings and deepest desires.

These mental meanderings wracked her brain and she nearly missed a telltale twig snap off to her left. Her reverie was abruptly broken and she was at instant attention. She froze, dark eyes narrowing as she carefully pivoted, shifting her gaze as she turned to take in the area surrounding her, looking for the source of that sound.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she spun around quickly in anticipation of attack. Trusting her instinct, she shot her arm out to block a blow aimed at her head. With a flicker of her wrist she caught her attacker's arm, twisting the wrist around with her right hand and using her left to shove him away. Her attacker was quicker, capturing her left hand and with little effort, locking it. Tifa fought the pain in her wrist as he pushed it backwards beyond its capacity to move, and she was nearly driven to the ground.

Twisting to the side, she rolled her wrist out of his grasp and using the momentum; she spun around and elbowed him in the gut. He staggered backwards, giving the young fighter an appreciative look. Without thought, Tifa went on the offensive again. Flipping she hit the old man with a series of arcing kicks. For the most part he blocked them with little trouble, though a select few did get through.

The form of her fighting was beautiful to look at, her legs spinning like the wings of a butterfly, in constant motion, as her arms moved with them, her entire body in harmony with the quick movement of her chosen form. Just as she swung out a leg for a particularly impressive strike, he anticipated the move and blocked it. Crossing his arms and catching her ankle in his hands, with a simple push he sent her flying backwards. She landed on the ground with an annoyed grunt, glaring up at the man who'd attacked her.

"You rely on that move too often." He said slowly, his voice was deep, with a heavy Wutanese accent.

"Yeah, well normally it can't be blocked." She replied, pouting as he helped her to her feet. "How did you block it anyway?" She was curious, as that particular kick had been designed to hide within the flowery flow of the form itself, hidden by the constant motion of her arms and legs.

"Because I do not daydream," the older man said, giving Tifa a pointed glance as he said it.

Tifa winced, feeling a lecture coming on. Zangan had often lectured her about her lack of attention to the world around her. He had told her that she must learn to feel the wind around her, to see without eyes, to hear without ears. Snapping his fingers in front of her face, she jumped. Guiltily blushing that she'd been drifting off in her own mind again.

"Your attention must be here," he said, gesturing to the scenery about him. "Not in here." With this, he jabbed a finger at her head. "You must learn focus, Tifa. I followed you for a full twenty minutes before you noticed me. Such mistakes are fatal. We will work on concentration today."

Tifa nodded wordlessly and followed her sifu out to into a small practice range they'd built together near the cottage where he resided. He started her out on a basic warm up routine, one that he'd developed to perfection over the long years he'd taught. It was actually excruciatingly difficult and Tifa considered it harder than the actual practice sometimes. There were the basic stretches to get the blood pumping that wound into the actual warm up or as Tifa liked to refer to it, her morning torture session.

The first series of warm up routines were designed to improve balance. It started out where she balanced herself on a very slender bamboo pole that had been stuck in the ground. The surface area of the pole was such that she could only manage to put one foot on it, with difficulty. She'd stand on this pole and gradually weighted buckets would be added to her extremities. The first bucket was always on the foot that she held aloft. She had to hold it out perfectly straight and balance a large bucket filled with little iron balls. Next would be a bucket of the same iron beads added to the ends of a thin bamboo pole, held milkmaid style. The last bucket was set on top of her head.

But that wasn't even the _real_ challenge. She was expected to balance all these buckets for a full hour, switching feet every five minutes without dropping a bucket and without loosing a single iron bead. If she did either, she'd have to start all over again. When she first started it had taken her a full day to master it, just barely. And then, the buckets had hardly been filled.

Now she had the exercise down to a science. Able to complete it flawlessly and the buckets were nearly full, almost to the top. She was sure that sifu would soon change the routine because she'd become too comfortable. He always did that once she showed marked improvement. On one hand she appreciated the challenge but on the other, she wouldn't mind things being occasionally easier. Or at least less painful.

The next step was strength training. This involved her repeatedly punching a ridiculously large block of wood, strengthened by an iron bar that had been inserted into its middle. Meaning she'd be unable to break it and it would make striking it hurt more. This would go on twenty minutes per hand. Twenty minutes per foot. She'd bloodied her hands the first time she tried that particular routine. Her knuckles had finally healed over and she had the nice, ugly calluses to prove it, though she noted with pride that her hands no longer looked so girly or delicate. They were the hands of someone who'd worked hard for something.

After that, she'd have to take a series of punches from her sifu to her stomach without wincing. When she first started he wore foam gloves but that was a thing of the past. Now he had weighted gloves that hurt like a bastard. But she endured it, besides the bruises had nearly healed. Lastly, she had to hit a specially made martial arts training dummy. It was made of oak but the 'arms' and 'legs' had iron caps placed on them. She'd strike her shins and her lower arms against it to build strength, to make her arms and legs as hard as iron. So far she wasn't as strong as her sifu in that regard, but she was getting better.

The last group of exercises were by far the worst, at least in her opinion. He made her do a series of push-ups. It seemed so innocuous. So easy. And when he first told her to do a push-up, she'd gladly bent down and prepared to do what everyone else in the world regarded as a push up. For this she received a thwap on the back from his bamboo walking stick. Most of the world did the push-ups military style. With hands laid flat on the ground, arms out straight, legs extended fully--on tiptoe but not so far as to make it overly uncomfortable. It was easy.

Nothing her sifu did was easy, she learned this very fast. His push-ups were a test of pain tolerance. They required that you have your legs extended fully, as in a regular push up, except that you had to go completely on tiptoe. Your feet could not lie flat, neither could your hands, she had to hold her entire weight on the tips of her fingers and toes. Lastly, her arms had to be held directly underneath her, elbows in. Making the weight distribution less dependant on her arms and more dependant on her strained fingers. Doing even one at the beginning was impossible. She'd worked herself up to ten complete push-ups. A feat she was proud of.

Again, this was not the end of it. It was only the beginning. She had to do ten of these with both hands. Then another ten with her left and another ten with her right, sometimes he'd mix it up and make her hold a bucket full of iron balls while she did it. He seemed to enjoy making her hold the things and she wondered sometimes if it was just a sadistic thrill. Like he enjoyed throwing impossible tasks her way and was just waiting for her to give up. He'd be waiting the rest of his life for because there was no way she'd throw the towel in. No matter how many damned buckets filled to the brim with iron beads he threw at her. She warmed up with little effort now, racing through his cavalcade of torment in two and a half hours without even breaking a sweat.

Next came the actual practice, which after the morning warm up could be a blessing or a curse. All depending on what he felt she needed to work on. It always started with a short period of meditation, to focus her mental energy. After that she'd jump into the formal practice of her chosen forms. The most prominent of her studies had been in the Southern Butterfly style. It relied heavily on the fast movement of her legs and arms. The form was meant to keep your enemy guessing by keeping your extremities in constant motion, relying heavily on powerful kicks and less powerful, but viciously fast punches.

Though he preferred to teach the northern Wutai art of wu-shu, which Southern Butterfly fell into, he had also shown her various techniques from other forms. Even from other disciplines all together. Delving into weapons training as well. Lately he'd been drilling her on a sword form that complimented Southern Butterfly. It was called White Phoenix and as a form, it was rarely seen much less put into wide spread practice.

In fact, very few modern martial artists believed it existed. It was a fairy tale, as believable as the old fables told about the ancients. It was said to be the perfect sword form, it was a form of relentless strikes that were devastatingly fast and powerful, making the one who used it a force to be reckoned with. Blows so powerful it was said to break lesser men's arms. The strikes were hard to block, if not impossible. The stuff of dreams or nightmares depending on how you saw it, and to some, it was best that it remained this way. It did exist and it had been taught to others, but only to those who were worthy of it.

A small sect of monks deep in the mountains of Wutai was the only place that still practiced it and rarely taught it to anyone, Wutanese or not. The temple was on the very peak of Mount Daichi'san, called the Academy of the White Crane, home to many secrets as deadly and as pure as the White Phoenix. Most people were unwilling to make the trek, even more unwilling to go through the hellish tests set by the monks to test the worth of future students.

There was in fact only one other foreigner that had ever been taught there. Zangan remembered this clearly, as he was the one to teach him. But that was of the past. This girl was the future and he looked forward to see how far she'd go. So he saw to it that she was constantly challenged. For her improvement she was rewarded with a change of routine.

Tifa knew something was up the minute she'd arrived at his cabin. He'd started her on a series of rather simple stretches. That was on the regular schedule and she did them as per usual. It was the way in which he'd asked her to do them. Zangan never asked her to do something, he told her. Normally he would bark commands like a military drill instructor and if she didn't immediately obey there were severe repercussions. Most of them involved a swift thwack from the bamboo walking stick. But he had asked her nicely this morning. With a please when she began and with a thank you when she finished. The ramifications of his change of attitude meant only one thing. That he had a truly horrible bit of training planned and this was his way of apologizing.

"Meaning no disrespect, Sifu. But what's going on..." Tifa asked cautiously, demonstrating as much respect in her tone as well as a hint of suspicion.

Zangan said nothing, merely smiling in his own quiet way. He clasped his hands in his Wutanese style tunic, eyes sparkling the entire time. Then he just stood there and studied her, letting her wait as punishment for her impatience. When he felt she waited long enough, he made a loud barking noise. Tifa jumped, nervously standing at attention, her arms held out in front of her. She stiffly pressed her left hand into her right palm and bowed low, snapping her arms to her side, before lifting her head up to look at her Sifu. With great authority, he approached her with measured steps. Standing before her, his crinkled eyes narrowed as if considering whether or not she was worthy of his time. Tifa lowered her eyes quickly and bowed again, knowing that it was an expected bit of respect, as much apart of her routine as her warm ups and the practice of her forms.

A student of Wutanese martial arts was expected to be knowledgeable, obedient, disciplined and modest. Zangan had rigidly enforced these rules, inventing a few of his own as well. It was believed that such rules built character and many non-Wutanese had trouble dealing with them. Outside Wutai, too much importance was put on the individual. There was little regard for the good of society, for working as a group. The good of the many over the good of the few, a fact that, much to Zangan's bitter disapproval, had not been cherished by Wutai's own leader -- The foolish Godo Kisaragi, whom Zangan spoke of often and with ill concealed loathing.

It was his hope to keep the spirit of the tenets given to Wutai by the Cetra themselves alive. If it could not be kept in practice at home, he would try to spread it abroad. But he found foreigners even more immune to it than Wutai's stubborn leader. After a very short time, he rarely took on new students, preferring to survive by his work in the lucrative field of monster hunting. It had been one of the reasons he'd come to Nibelheim in the first place. He managed to keep the monster population down in the area, but not enough to make a difference it seemed. It was then that he first met the Lockheart girl and saw her potential as a future student.

Indeed, it had taken Tifa some getting used to but she had adapted to the rules well. Remembering how hard she'd worked to get Zangan to take her on in the first place. It had practically taken an act of divine intervention; despite the fact that it was obvious he needed the money. He was gruff and rude to her. Stating that he felt females made bad students. Especially non-Wutanese female students. They were flighty and indecisive, a bad combination, he told her, unable to strike with any force because they hesitated.

The minute he said that, Tifa saw red. She never liked being underestimated. Especially if it was in such sexist terms, her being female had nothing to do with anything. She punched him in the stomach for his trouble. To this day she was unsure if he had let her punch him or if she'd landed the punch on her own. She had a sneaking suspicion it was a bit of both. After that, she followed him around. Whereever he went, she followed always demanding that he teach her. Even when he'd make as if to attack her, she'd fiercely stand her ground. Dark eyes clear, devoid of anything resembling fear. She'd always been agile and though she lacked skill, she was mostly able to dodge the stones he threw at her. Tifa grinned to herself, silently glad that those gymnastic classes she hated as a child had been good for something.

Finally came the day when he just gave up out of sheer frustration and accepted her as his new student. He was always hard on her. Tifa knew that it was because he expected a lot of her, not because he disliked her. Sometimes she felt as if he was tougher on her than any of his other students but in his stoic demeanor she detected a note of pride as he taught her. The occasional appreciative smile would flicker on his face and he'd make a pleased little grunt when she exceeded expectation. Which was often.

She expected of herself more than he did. She was by nature a perfectionist, setting insanely high expectations for herself. There was no point in doing something, she felt, if you didn't do it well. Less point in doing it if you didn't try your best and she was willing to push herself as far as it took to reach her own personal brass ring. Her goals were high and if she were to reach them, she'd never get there by half-assing it.

Zangan never knew where her determination came from and he didn't much care. He only saw a resolute martial artist, willing to give everything she had in pursuit of her art. The girl was disciplined and her willingness to do as told impressed him. Her grace, speed and strength added to the quality of her character were a combination that made for an excellent martial artist. She was his best student and he was proud to have the honor of teaching her.

Tifa waited with her arms held stiffly at her sides, watching her sifu as he paced back and forth. It was nerve-wracking and she wished that he would just get on with it. With nervous anticipation she stood there and thought of all the previous times he came up with spontaneous changes in the routine. He called them special practice routines. She hadn't given them a name yet, only despising the prospect of a new one when he felt like she wasn't progressing fast enough in one area. It was for the best, she knew, but it didn't lessen her hate of them.

Her sifu, seeing that he'd waited long enough to make her squirm, waltzed up to her with a bright smile on his face. He unclipped the wooden practice sword that rested in a sheath on his back. Throwing it, sheath and all, at Tifa, who caught it quite easily. Without waiting for instruction, she clipped the weapon on and waited. Surely, this wasn't the end of it. Another mysterious smile spread across his face and from the sleeve of his jacket he pulled out a long sash, whipping it out with a flourish as if he was pulling out a prize at the end of a magic trick. Tifa nearly groaned, holding it back because she knew to let it loose would result an increase in difficulty for whatever task he'd set ahead.

"Again?" She asked, trying to keep the uncertainty from her voice.

Zangan winked and started to walk off towards the mountain. This was as close to a yes as she'd get. With a sharp nod of his head, he indicated that she should follow. No words were necessary and Tifa followed without question.

A good twenty minutes later after a brisk hike, they arrived at their destination. The peak they'd arrived at was called the Devil's Backbone and Tifa knew the spot well. There were many who tested the long winding peak that crested and fell near the main peak of Mt. Nibel. It wasn't as dangerous as some of the others but it had its own reputation for breaking the bones of those fool hardy enough to climb her. Most of the non-fatal injuries incurred in these mountains were from those who tried to best this peak. Cloud had broken his arm in elementary school trying to climb the sheer walls of the Devil's Backbone. He'd done it to try and impress her. It had, but it had also worried her terribly.

Tifa looked up at it, eyes wide in alarm. The rock walls around the Devil's Backbone were dreadfully sheer, with hardly any handholds or footholds. _Sweet Shiva_. She wasn't afraid, she was petrified. This part of the mountain required a massive amount of equipment to climb and they had nothing but their own hands. Nothing at all. With horrifying clarity, she realized that he expected her to climb it bared handed. And just the other day she thought that he might run out of impossible tasks for her. While she stared and gapped, he wordlessly clamped himself into a harness. Testing the lines, he shoved the blindfold into her hands. She blinked a couple of times, watching her sifu as he effortless climbed up the slope like he was taking a Sunday stroll.

"You waiting for mountain to come to you?" He called after her, dashing up the rock face with easy grace.

Tifa scowled and glared at the sash in her hands. Her stomach sank at the idea of trying to climb a difficult peak blindfolded but she wouldn't endure his endless ridicule if she refused to do it. With a very deep breath, she approached the wall and readied herself. Clipping on the harness, she glanced up at the mountain, studying it for a few minutes before tying the sash around her eyes.

Her hand reached out and tentatively touched the wall, fingers searching above her until she found what she was looking for. A handhold. She pulled herself up and slowly began to climb. It was hard work, her fingers constantly scanning the rock for holds, all the while trying her best to find that inner world he told her of. That place where you could go to and see the world without your eyes. Where everything fell away and all that stood between you and creation was the limit of your own mortal soul. It was then that the rock struck her straight in her forehead. She lifted a hand up to her now bleeding hairline and grimaced.

"TOO SLOW!" Zangan shouted down to her, "I could do this all day. Gravity must hate you!"

Another rock whirled down at her and she only missed it by half an inch, twisting to her left to avoid it. Then another fell and another and another and another, until it seemed like it was raining stones and with the stones came a litany of slurs and taunts that were meant to motivate out of sheer irritation. She knew this but it didn't stop her anger from rising. As much as she tried to control it, it leapt forward and she knew she'd have to accept it or surrender to it.

Zangan had warned her about her quick temper and had taught her ways to control it. Unable to continue to tolerate his verbal assaults, much less the rocks he kept throwing at her, she focused her anger, drove it into a pinpoint as she reached out with her other senses. The rocks continued to fall. Sometimes she'd evade by pure luck but most found their mark. Zangan stopped for a moment, watching his student as she did as she was taught. He only hoped that this little exercise would finally work before pelting the girl with more rocks.

Her heart thudded in her chest like one of the enormous drums that were brought out and played on festival days. It beat a tune that the gods themselves could hear. Tifa struggled to find this place, struggled even harder to keep herself there. In the deep black, were all creation met and she could feel the world as it moved around her. Everything here was still and she was not. It was a part of her condition, a part of who she was. Nervous and unsure about herself and her place in the world, if she was still then she'd have to think about the past. If she were still, she'd have to think about how much she'd lost. Her mother. Cloud. If she were still, what else would she lose? But what would she gain?

Surrendering to her heartbeat, she let everything go and felt the stillness and accepted it. Her mind quieted, pushing away all useless thought and concentrated, letting the world seep in through the beating of her heart. Her breathing slowed, as did the world that gradually came back to her. The air stilled, the sounds, the feeling of the world rushed in and suddenly, she could feel it. Above, her sifu smiled to himself, glad that the girl had finally found her center.

A breeze stirred above her and she turned her head slightly, determining its position. It was coming closer. Closer....Closer....Clo... She could feel the air as it parted and with lightening speed, she withdrew the practice sword. Side swiping it, she knocked the stone her sifu had thrown at her away.

Multiple rocks fell and a small smile appeared on her face. Pushing off the wall with one foot, she twisted in mid-air, flicking the rocks away with short swipes of her sword. Another barrage flew and she swung left, then right, finally pushing off the wall again. Swinging out and away from the wall, preparing herself as she flipped and caught the wall with a hand. She batted away the rocks as they flew at her with increasing speed.

Planting her foot, she pushed off and up this time, using her powerful leg muscles to leap forward, allowing her to scale several feet in a matter of seconds. Flipping, she smacked away a few more rocks with her sword and spinning, she caught another with her foot. Lifting it up and out, letting it connect and sending it flying upwards, towards her sifu. _Crazy old bastard_....she thought to herself with increasing humor. She could hear the swish of his walking stick and knew that he'd sent it back at her.

What followed was a strange mid-air tennis match between walking stick and sword. Each leaped back and forth across the rock wall, sending the stone sailing back with determined strokes from their weapons. With a downward swing, Tifa nailed the stone, whipping it up, aimed for Zangan's head. He swiped sideways, knocking it back, aimed at her sword arm. She struck. Then he struck. Then she struck back. And all that could be heard was the hollow echoing chorus of stone striking wood.

A good twenty minutes went into this game and though both were enjoying themselves, it was hardly challenging anymore. Intending to end it, Zangan struck out with his staff with as much power as he could muster. Unbelievably, the girl not only dodged it but sent it flying back at him with such speed that he just barely managed to block it. He bent its trajectory so that it fell far to the left of him, thus ending the pleasant ping-pong match. Zangan was far from done, however.

The mid-air ballet began anew. She avoided the carefully thrown projectiles and formed a loose plan. She'd been on the defensive too long and was itching to take the fight to him. Four more stones fell and she spun, batting them away like they were nothing more substantial that flies. They pelted her sifu with surprising speed, hiding her true intent. The last was sent hurtling upwards with one powerfully precise stroke. It sailed at him with such speed that he barely had time to catch it one handed. Had he not been on the level he was, that last rock would have hit its mark with little effort...which seemed to be his head. He grinned a little. She was getting out her frustrations, which was good. The girl held in her emotions too much, she needed the release. The effort she'd made impressed him, that and her eerily precise aim. Her accuracy when blindfolded was almost better than without.

Tifa pushed herself to catch up with him and for a critical moment, her concentration wavered. A rush of wind blew back her hair, startling her back into attention. She just barely managed to dodge it before another blow nearly caught her in her stomach. Desperately, she blocked this one as well. Her sword just catching the cane before it slammed into her mid-section. The old man had descended on high, perhaps anticipating her attack.

She heard the swish of bamboo and swung her sword up, turning the wooden blade as the cane connected so that it batted his arm away, exposing his mid-section. Thrusting her sword forward, she was surprised when it met empty air. He'd flipped out of the way, behind her. She realized this too late to prevent the kick he landed on her back. Tifa grunted in pain as she went flying, her fingers digging into the solid rock for purchase.

Gaining control of her momentum, she swung back, blindly kicking and punching at her opponent. Zangan harumped in displeasure, and rewarded her inattention and bad form with several more brutal blows. One particularly nasty strike to her arm was sure to leave a bruise. Tifa shrugged the pain off, focusing on blocking his constant barrage of blows.

She pressed her hands against the rock wall and pushed herself off it, swinging her leg out, she kicked him. Hearing his attempt to recover himself by the scrabbling sounds of rocks falling, Tifa allowed a small smile, which dimmed shortly thereafter. He came at her again, cane raised and with impossible speed, he struck at her, the constant motion of the cane once again keeping her on defense. She was forced to constantly block blows that threatened to smack her in the face. He drove her upwards and she grimaced in frustration, wracking her mind for a move that would end his dominance of the fight.

There had to be a way to disarm him or at the least temporarily halt his flurry of strikes. She flipped away from him, landing a palm on the rock surface before going airborne again. Sheathing the sword, she decided to stop relying on a weapon she wasn't that good with anyway. She'd always preferred her fists. The close range would disadvantage her but if she could get close enough..

Tifa bounded around, never staying still enough for him to land a blow, moving just outside his striking range. She hoped to disorient him, experience told her otherwise but she could hope. Tifa moved upwards, darting over her sifu's head. She listened closely for the tell tale sound of bamboo, coming close enough for him to strike. She evaded two blows, a third caught the same arm that had been bruised before but she ignored it. Bamboo whistled and she caught his wrist and slammed it into the rock face. Not hard enough to break bone, but with enough force to knock his precious cane out of his hand. She felt, not so much as heard his dissatisfaction at losing his favorite weapon. Tifa wasn't concerned; he had about fifty of the damned things.

His interest in the fight piqued. Up until now he'd been playing with her. He let loose, no longer holding back. The girl felt the change and responded in kind. Zangan smiled, knowing all the time that she'd been holding back as much as he. The fight ranged over the small mountain peak, blows landing with blinding speed, like the furious lightening strikes seen on the choppy waters of the ocean during a hurricane. Hands and feet, arms and legs were blurred to blobs of swiftly trailing color. Until they were nothing but two small figures, whirling like dervishes as the morning turned to early afternoon. The only sound on the peak was the soft scrabble of rock as it gave way with each push off the mountainside or the accidental strike that was meant for an opponent but missed by chance or deliberate plan.

The summit was soon reached. A climb that normally took eight hours or more to complete was finished in half that. Most of it spent in focused combat. Had they not been fighting, it probably would have taken two hours, probably less. Zangan reached the summit first and prepared a last surprise for his star pupil. Tifa followed, dark hair whipping behind her, lapping over her still blindfolded eyes. Frequently she abandoned climbing all together in favor of flipping upwards with almost supernatural grace. She reached the summit shortly after her sifu and was greeted by another stone thrown at her face. Tifa spun around, whipping the sword from the sheath in a spinning arc. The sword connected, smacking the stone squarely and sending it hurtling back at her sifu with frightful speed.

"TAKE THAT OLD MAN!" She shouted as she heard the crack of the stone against her sword, completely absorbed in the moment.

Zangan was surprised as the rock smacked him straight in the forehead. Shaking his head and grunting before tentatively touching the wound. He grinned at the bit of blood he'd wiped off his forehead. Impressive, very impressive. Tifa waited, holding her sword out and ready for an attack. She realized she'd let herself enjoy the battle a bit too much and had possibly disrespected her Sifu...but she couldn't help it. Finally being able to do what she felt was impossible was a rush....and she'd one-uped him. That happened...never. This was the first time. And she beat him with a sword, she hated that sword. She sucked at it. But the practice with it had done her good and she was excited as she felt she'd improved.

She stood there breathing heavily as she waited for the verdict and the inevitable repercussions. Tifa tensed as she heard his approach. She was so dead. Gods above, she hoped he didn't make her do something ridiculously horrible. Envisioning having to transfer a huge bucketful of tiny iron beads from one pail to another, Tifa gulped apprehensively. He pulled off her blindfold and she opened her eyes, blinking away the bright corona of light that nearly blinded her.

Zangan studied her, frowning the entire time, his dark eyes narrowed. The deeply gouged wrinkles in his face stood out while he looked down at her. She winced, she hated that look. That look meant she was really in for it. Unconsciously, she began to stretch her fingers in anticipation of the agonizing chopstick fun-time she was about to have. He let out a low, sharp grunt. Tifa snapped to attention, wondering if that was an appreciative sound or one of disappointment. She couldn't tell. The vast rainbow of his grunts were so varied, it was hard to tell one from the other. Her form had been perfect, not that she was arrogant about it. She just knew, she hadn't been sloppy, that wasn't her style. Her only mistake had been the last little bit where she kind of, sort of insulted him. His eyes went cold and Tifa bit the inside of her lip, waiting for him to cuff her soundly on the head. Zangan grinned and let out a loud, braying laugh that echoed over the mountains.

"Sifu?" Tifa asked, warily.

He clasped her on the arm, "Big improvement today. The rest of practice is cancelled."

"W...W-w-w-what?" Tifa stuttered in disbelief. Practice was NEVER cancelled.

He laughed again, "You did well...A break is well deserved and you have earned it."

Tifa blinked in amazement. Had he actually complimented her? She looked up to see if the sky was falling. Was it the end of the world...had hell frozen over? She was tempted to ask who he was and what he'd done with her real sifu, but decided against it. A quiet thank you was given and she bowed respectfully to him.

The way down was quiet and quick. Tifa sensed that there was something on his mind. Something he wanted to discuss with her but he was unsure of how to begin. She'd let him speak in his own time, rather than prying. He was sensitive about his grasp of Midgardian, and it always took time for him to choose the right words.

It wasn't long before they touched solid ground again. Wordlessly, they unclasped their harnesses and picked up the equipment. Theirs was a relationship of unspoken requests. Needing no words of agreement to make it work, it just did. They made it back to his cabin without incident and put away the equipment.

Abruptly, in between the cabin and the small storage shed, Zangan stopped. He turned around, stared Tifa straight in the face and bowed deeply to her. With quick movements, he straightened his back and pulled out a scroll from the inside of his sleeve. Zangan hadn't made her aware of how terribly lucky she was. He didn't want her to get arrogant, not that he thought she would. He berated her enough so that there was little possibility that she'd become overconfident. She would be surprised to know that he was actually impressed with her progress. She went from a mere novice, barely able to punch her way out of a wet paper sack, to an accomplished fighter that he would feel confident in matching against any of the best Wutanese fighters in the business. This girl was unique. Blessed with talent and he had done all he could to make sure that it blossomed. And it certainly had.

He held out the scroll to her in offering, perching atop his flattened palms, a classic Wutanese gesture of respect. Tentatively, she took the scroll, holding onto to it like she didn't know what to do with it. Zangan straightened his back and shoved his hands in his sleeves, staring at her expectantly. With a curt nod, he indicated she should open it. Tifa frowned and took a deep breath before hooking a finger under the wax emblem that sealed it. It broke with a brittle crack.

Her fingers were now numbed with cold as she fumbled with opening the scroll. Rolling it outward carefully, the interior portion of the scroll was revealed. Long lines of neatly drawn Wutanese calligraphy decorated the page, set with a large read seal at the bottom. Tifa examined the seal, as she was unable to read the writing. She recognized the decoration. It was the standard of the White Crane. Her mouth went dry and the air let out of her lungs in one harsh gasp.

"Sifu....is this?!"

He smiled with quiet pride and nodded, "You have been accepted. This letter is but a formality."

"H-how?"

He chuckled and clasped her on the arm as he lead her out of the mountains, speaking as he walked.

"I will go today to make everything ready. In two weeks, you will meet with elders. There will be a test...if you pass, you will be student at White Crane."

"W-wait...wait...What about my father? Isn't this all a bit premature?"

"Already asked your father. He gives his blessing."

Tifa stopped, forcing her Sifu to stop as well. Tears welled in her eyes. She'd never been so happy and sad at the same time. Her dreams were coming true. She'd miss this town. Her father. Cloud. But the chance to study in Wutai was too good. Tifa reached out and grabbed the brass ring. Pressing her palms together, she held them up to her forehead and bowed very, very low. It was a gesture of deep respect, bestowing honor on the one it was given to. A soft smile drew over Zangan's weathered features. When she stood up, she saw that there were tears in his eyes too. He strode up to her, clasping his hands over hers and looked at her with almost fatherly pride.

"The honor is mine to have such a student. Come."

He let her go and walked towards the town entrance. Tifa felt tears prick her eyes but she held them back. A warrior reserved their emotions, and she would be a true warrior in every way. There was a brief discussion before they entered the town. He recommended what she'd need to pack for her trip and when she should be ready. Giving her the date when he would be coming back for her.

They entered Nibelheim proper to find large military trucks parked in the town center. Zangan narrowed his eyes and looked towards the mountain peaks.

He spoke to her carefully, "Shinra comes, I see. Be careful, Xuétú An ominous aura rises in the mountain. It is best to keep your eyes and ears open."

Tifa had no idea what it meant but was loath to question him. Her Sifu was fond of such cryptic warnings. Half the time they were out of genuine concern, but he didn't want to appear obvious. Hence, with the cryptic non-sense speak. The other half of the time, they turned out to be nothing more than practical jokes that were meant to keep her constantly guessing. She shrugged it off. He was probably just worried she'd get caught up in the excitement of having a celebrity in town. Like everyone else was. He should know her better than that, but she wouldn't let it bother her. Nothing could ruin her good mood. They parted ways, and Tifa trotted into town, floating on cloud nine.

The day was bright and clear, and nothing at all seemed wrong with the world. It was all right and wonderful. She smiled broadly and she broke out into a flat out run, whooping with joy as she went. The house was empty when she arrived. Not even the maid was there to share her joy, and dammit she needed someone to share it with. She skipped out of the house, deciding to check the travel agency. He might be at the office. Stranger things have happened, she thought, still grinning. It seemed like she might never stop.

* * *

Bursting in through the employee entrance, she went straight to his office. Turning the nob, she peeked in only to find him not there. Obviously, strange things didn't happen.

"Damn..." She whispered quietly, wondering were the hell he wandered off to this time.

Her footfalls echoed heavily in the narrow hall. Leaving her father's office for the cash room, what she considered her office. She pulled off her gloves and set them down, looking around for a note that might indicate where he'd gone. Tifa frowned, her good mood slowly dissipating. Sometimes he was like a little kid. How hard was it to write down where he was going? A fricking five year old could do it, why couldn't he?

Tifa sighed, there was no changing her Dad. Even though he annoyed her sometimes, she kind of loved him for his irritation factor. There was no note, but there was paperwork left on her desk. She rolled her eyes. He'd left his paperwork. He always left his paperwork. On top of the fridge, in her office, anywhere but where it actually belonged. Honestly. She flipped through it, not really looking that closely at the clutch of paper held together by a large black clamp. The Shinra logo popped out amongst the papers. It was their contract, ready and waiting for their arrival at two. Tifa glanced at the clock above the door. A quarter after one.

She puttered around a bit before picking up the Shinra contract and transferring it to her father's office. Half hoping to catch him sneaking in. He still wasn't in. Closing the door behind her, Tifa decided to ask their secretary. Ismeta Buric had been with them for the last four years and she was a dream employee. A transplant from Gongaga, she didn't always speak perfect Midgardian but she did her job very well. She was efficient, on time, and trustworthy...not to mention a damn hard worker.

Striding forward towards the main office, Tifa called out to her, "Ismeta? You here?"

The sound of a chair moving came from the break room, followed by soft footsteps.

"Miss Lockheart?" Ismeta's heavily accented voice asked as she came into view.

Tifa stopped and gave the woman a warm smile but before she could get a word out, the secretary started to babble at her in broken Midgardian.

"I am so glad you cames back here. I am in office all by myself and Shinra cames...and I can't find you father. He say he go for coffee, but that was one hour ago and now...Shinra is here. No Mister Lockheart. Tell me, what do I do?"

Tifa held up her hands to stem the onslaught, "Wait....Shinra...is here?" She asked, looking down at her watch, "It's barely one thirty."

Ismeta scoffed, gesticulating wildly as she spoke, "Is only one thirty. I know. This is what I say to rude soldier...Then..._he_ cames."

"Who?"

"General Sephiroth." She replied, her voice dipping down as she said the name, like it was some kind of terrible curse.

"Oh, for God's sake..."

"Whaaaat?" Ismeta challenged huffily, "Oh, you so brave. Then you tell him to cames back at two. I won't."

Tifa frowned and closed her eyes briefly, "Where is he?"

"In waiting room." She nodded, shaking a finger at Tifa, "You will see. He is scary man. I hope he leave soon."

"You and me both, sister." Tifa replied honestly, looking back at the secretary with a heavy sigh.

She pushed open the door to the main office, a nice little space that included a rack with brochures and Ismeta's small desk. To the left of Ismeta's station was the waiting room, which was not so much a room as it was a set of chairs and tables set up in the lobby. It was a cheery little place. From the warm mauve carpet to the hideous, bright orange chairs--that she loved and hated at the same time. They were appalling to look at but she took comfort in them for their familiarity. Sometime, this office felt more like home than her actual house.

In the middle of this comfortable scene was the tallest man she'd ever seen...or maybe it was just her perception. Either way, his presence loomed over the room, like a god on high. It wasn't his height that intimidated her. She was beyond making assumptions based on a relative thing like height. It was...everything about him. The whole package. From the long, silver hair, to the midnight black coat. It was an aura that swirled around him, one that spoke of danger and ill omen. He looked out of place, a cold block of ice in the middle of her warm little lobby.

His back was turned to her and he didn't move, didn't look around. Like a normal person would. He stood completely still, his hands clasped behind him. Looking for all the world like he was waiting for the latest troop reports...or enemy movement or whatever.

Tifa shivered, feeling very wary with Sephiroth in the room. Somehow, even saying the name in her head intimidated and that aura she felt hit her more forcibly. It was black and ominous, and nothing good could come of it. This man was strange...unnatural. Alien. She remembered her Sifu's warning and now she realized his words had not been an idle thought. He'd said what he had to with purpose...he was worried and he had reason. She clutched the scroll he'd given her tighter. Fear was useless but to deny it was greater foolishness. She was afraid of this man but she wouldn't flinch. Summoning every last bit of her strength, she put on the air of professional confidence that now came so easily for her.

Forging ahead, she greeted him brightly, "Hello. What can I do for you today?"

She even managed a smile. The General turned around, fixing his gaze on her. Her smile faded a bit and she hurried to cover it. His eyes were so cold. So inhuman. It was like looking through an opaque piece of glass. Nothing there but what was reflected. His eyes were vacant, a soulless, dark void that consumed itself from within.

"And you are?"

"S-sorry." She said, clearing her throat and holding out her hand, "Tifa Lockheart. I'm the assistant tour director and the senior guide here."

He glanced down at her outstretched hand before grasping it for a quick shake.

"You've got red on you." He stated blankly, pointing at her head.

"OH." She said, smiling with embarrassment as she wiped it away.

"I was looking for Mr. Lockheart. I have some questions for him."

"Well, if you'd like to step into the office, I'd be more than happy to answer any questions you have."

He regarded her for a moment before nodding curtly. That was permission enough for her and she turned around, making for the door. Holding it open for him, she directed him to the office's location. Just as she walked past the break room, Ismeta caught her eye. Mouthing to her, '_Told you. Scary.'_ Tifa scowled at her good naturedly before following the General into the office.

Once inside, she gathered up the Shinra paperwork and puttered around gathering what she needed before sitting behind the desk, across from him. He leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the desk and steepling his long fingers.

"How old are you?"

Well, that wasn't the first question she thought he'd ask.

"Fourteen."

"Awfully young for a tour guide."

She feared the man, but she wouldn't put up with an insult, "And you're what? Nineteen? Twenty? Awfully young for a general, don't you think?"

His face remained neutral. He seemed to be considering her words. She was tempted to ask him if that was all. Maybe he'd like to know her star sign...or her blood type. But she held her tongue. This was not a man to loose one's temper on. Carefully, he watched her.

"You study the martial arts, don't you?"

"_Whoa, how'd he know that one?_" she thought, answering slowly, "Yes. I do. How did--"

He interrupted her question as it was of no consequence to him, "What school do you study?"

"Northern Wu-shu."

"Thought so. Butterfly style?"

"Yeah."

Without even asking, he picked up the scroll she'd set down on the desk and opened it. Tifa was about to protest, but decided better of it.

"You've been accepted to White Crane. Impressive. I went there. It's a difficult school."

"So I've been told. Well then, are we done with the chit-chat portion of the meeting or can we get onto business?"

He didn't even seem phased, "Point taken. I apologize for the questions...I just wanted to make certain for myself that you're as prepared as you say you are."

"No apology necessary." she said with a plastic smile, inwardly fuming, "So, what can I help you with, General?"

"You may call me by name. I dislike titles."

"No problem...anything I can help you with?"

"Yes, I have questions regarding the route you've decided on."

Tifa nodded and pulled the route map out and flattened it over the desk's surface.

"What's your question?"

"I have studied aerial maps of this region. I am not convinced that this is the safest route. I was hoping you'd be able to offer alternatives."

Tifa almost laughed out loud. Was he for real? Repressing a smile, she spoke, "There are plenty of alternatives." She pulled out the initial itinerary she'd submitted, "This was the route I choose. Your superiors nixed it. They sent over this one instead...much to my horror." She thumped the map underneath for emphasis.

"Do you have their orders?"

"Sure." Tifa replied, obligingly pulling out and handing them over.

He took it from her hands and immediately began to read it. She noticed he still wore his gloves. Why wear gloves inside? Fascinated by this odd detail, she watched absently as his fingers flipped through the pages. His right arm moved sharply and his sleeve pulled back. Tifa noticed a flash of pink that was wrapped around his wrist before he pulled his sleeve back down. In the brief glimpse she got, it appeared to be a ribbon. Probably from a girlfriend. _Whodda__ thunk_? Tifa smiled inwardly, pretending she hadn't seen a thing. Inside, she was jubilantly satisfied that all the mooning twits in town would be disappointed at this bit of news. She didn't ask him about it more directly, as he seemed pretty quick to hide it. But, god, did it make her day. Still, none of her beeswax. She waited quietly while he read and reread the orders about a dozen times. After a good twenty minutes, he slapped them back on the desk with disgust. The General stared into space for several very long, very uncomfortable moments, his brows furrowed. Tifa sat there as well, trying not to fidget. After a few more minutes of this, he sighed deeply and massaged his temples with one hand.

"So...This route we're taking. How long will we be on the mountain?"

"Three hours in total. More or less."

"Is it safe?"

"Honestly?" She asked, not wanting to appear to be overly negative about things. He nodded, his fingers making a real go of massaging his temple. "No."

"Will you be able to lead us up it?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Meet us at the town entrance, O-five hundred."

"Huh?"

"Five o'clock in the morning."

"Oh, right. Sure thing."

They both stood and shook hands.

"Nice to meet you Miss Lockheart."

For a moment, she panicked. What the hell was she gonna call him? Mister Sephiroth? He didn't like his title...damnation. "Nice to meet you too...Sephiroth."

She said it so uncertainly that it sounded more like a question. God, of all the times to be her usually dorky self! He didn't seem to mind and left without a word, closing the door with a sharp slam. Five minutes later, Ismeta poked her head in and smiled.

"I told you he was scary." She taunted as she entered the room.

"Yeah. Well, he left didn't he? Mission accomplished."

Her father chose that moment to enter, coffee cup in hand. Tifa pointed at him accusatorily.

"You owe me!! HUGE!"

"Hey, what about me?" Ismeta piped up, semi-indignant.

"You owe us...HUGE!"

The three of them argued amiably amongst themselves, until Mr. Lockheart agreed to buy them donuts and coffee to compensate for their emotional trauma. Meanwhile, the sun set behind the mountains, turning the dusky sky a deep purple. The small town beneath those peaks was peaceful and unaware of the danger in their midst. As fate pushed forward, towards that which would change the town forever.

* * *

Author's Note

Sifu--Chinese for Teacher

Xuetu--Chinese for Apprentice.

HA! I bet y'all thought I forgot about this one. Well, I didn't. This chapter took a hella long time to write as it's heavy on action...and it's hard for me! But I think I did well, all things considered. A little note on the OC--Ismeta Buric. She's actually based on a real person. One of my Bosnian co-workers. She's a gas and I love her to death. So much so, I put her in my story. And before you throw large objects my way for making her talking like that...I have to say. She actually does talk like that, one of the many reasons I had to write her in. Everytime I read this, I can hear her voice echoing in my brain. Also, hopefully I did good with the marital arts stuff. I'm not experienced, so I really had to do a lot of reasearch for this chapter. But I'm okay with that. Right. Onto more updates.

Ciao!

Noa!


	13. Where Your Eyes Don't Go

Snowflakes fell like cold, distant puffs of star encrusted light from a slate grey sky that was alternately bright and dark. This day the dawn had broke imperceptible and with impossible stillness. It was so peaceful that if you looked at the sleepy town just right, it began to resemble a live replica of the little snow globes sold in Nibelheim's many gift shops --A tranquil world in a globe, shaken gently by the hand of God.

It had been over two weeks since Tifa's first meeting with Shinra and their short, but eventful trek up the mountain. But she wasn't thinking about that today. Serious thoughts were far from her mind. In fact, her mind wasn't overly preoccupied with much of anything, other than looking forward to Zangan's return and perhaps a letter from Cloud. The mail had been delayed and she could hope. Though all in all, her mind was free from anything more stressful than the most superficial observations.

This was the kind of day reserved for relaxing, that peculiar kind of winter morning where you just didn't feel like doing much of anything. The kind of quiet Sunday in winter that was uncommon in Nibelheim, a town which during this time was usually quite busy. Yes, the snow had returned, as it always did but not with the roar of a lion, as most expected. It crept in soundlessly one day, gracing the tiny village with its beauty. This was an inside day, a day to curl up next to a blazing hearth fire and be glad that you were warm and cozy.

Tifa had taken a place in the living room of her home. She sat down in one of the large window seats to look out at the placid beauty laid out before her, observing the cold tranquility with dreamy eyes. It had been her intention to sit here and watch the snow fall and knit in peace. But the best laid plans and intentions had a way of not turning out exactly as you wanted them to. She'd snuggled down amongst the plush pillows with her afghan and her knitting supplies, intent on finishing a scarf for her father. Until the cat interrupted this quiet reverie with his own unscheduled feline intervention. He had jumped up suddenly and appropriated her lap. Claiming it as his own by firmly sitting atop her knitting, letting it know who was boss, nobody divided his human's attention. Nobody and nothing. This was the polite cat way of saying...there is nothing more important than me. Despite her initial grumbling, Tifa acquiesced to her feline companion's demands.

Tama was her constant companion when she had a spare minute to spend in her actual home, which was not very often. He was a one year old white and grey shorthaired calico cat, the feline version of a mutt. She could have asked for a pure breed. Some high and mighty cat that came from parents who were certified blue ribbon winners. Her father had the money, but Tifa had always appreciated runty, animal shelter cats better anyway. There was something more humble about them...and she liked humble.

She'd taken his name from a Wutanese astronomy book that Zangan gave her as a present last year for the winter solstice. It listed the Wutanese names for various constellations. The cat had been her father's present and she had searched the pages of her new book for a name. She decided on a constellation in the southern sky. There was a list of two names for each constellation, as Wutai was known to have two official dialects. She'd chosen the Northern Mandarin name for the constellation of Cancer. Tamahome. It meant Demon Star, which described her cat quite adequately.

Her father wasn't a fan of the long, foreign name. He found it had to pronounce and had taken to calling him either Tama, for short, or Mr. Cat. The later was usually only reserved for when Tama made him mad, which was a lot. Tama couldn't help attacking his toes; honestly...it was his fault for tempting the cat with them in the first place. Tifa's favorite name for him was Tama-pants. She'd even gone so far as to have made up a little song about it, which she would sing to no one. Mostly, they just called him Tama and it suited him quite well.

Tifa leaned back, wiggling her toes to try and regain some feeling in her stiff extremities. Her feet had begun to fall asleep about an hour ago and she'd been trying desperately to ward off the tingly feeling in her toes. Being stuck underneath a sleepy cat had its disadvantages. He'd sprawled over her, stretched out and looking quite comfortable. His royal felineness was relaxed in half-sleep, his furry little chest rising and falling softly. Tifa absently stroked his head and he made a tired little chirping sound from the back of his throat. It was something between a purr and a meow, sounding like buurrbbbtttt as it came out. She smiled, scratching behind his ear as she watched the snow fall gently outside. The cat purred his approval, thoroughly enjoying the attention. He squinted and curled his paws around her wrist, leaning into the touch. She looked down, always amazed when he gave her a hug like that.

She had decided that there was nothing better in this world than moments like this. Times when you had nothing more important to do than sit on a couch with a cat on your lap while watching the world pass you by. The only way this could be more perfect was if she had a cup of hot cocoa. _That _would be heaven in a box.

Tifa smiled serenely, letting out a long contented sigh. She'd stopped petting the cat, much to his irritation. He gave her hand a little nip, to let her know he didn't give her permission to stop. Honestly, humans could be the dullest creatures. His sharp little canines dug painfully into the meat of her pointer finger and she yelped.

"OW! You little shit!" She cried, tapping his nose gently to make him aware of her disapproval.

The cat was nonplussed, looking up at his owner with heavy-lidded eyes. He yowlped and licked the injured finger.

"Fine. I forgive you....Demon cat." she cooed, pausing to give the area between his ears a good scratch.

The cat stretched and snuggled into the crook of her arm, covering his face with a paw. He'd be good for now. She stopped petting him momentarily and took a look at the damage. It was nothing more serious than a small half-moon cut that bled just a little bit. She pushed on it with her thumb and a small drop of blood beaded on her pale skin. Tifa stared at it for a moment, before deciding to stick it in her mouth and suck on it. Somehow, it helped relieve the stinging. She didn't care to know how or why, it just did. In the back of her mind, she was vaguely aware that it wasn't exactly the best way to treat an animal bite. But there was nothing to do about it. She was effectively trapped underneath the cat. Yes, she could move and get an adhesive bandage but then she'd have cat guilt...and there was nothing worse than cat guilt.

The door that led from the hallway to the living room opened with a squeak. In stepped the new maid, Anya. She hadn't been around long enough for Tifa to catch the last name, but she seemed nice enough. They'd been through a lot of maids, so she stopped learning their entire name because she'd just end up having to forget it anyway. She carried a ceramic tray with a mug on top of it. The prim, older woman walked with neat and careful steps towards Tifa. So far, she liked the new maid. She was cheerful, having something of a perpetual smile on her face, which was good.

"Here's your chocolate, Mademoiselle." She said, with a hint of humor.

Tifa grinned and took it gratefully without a word.

"Careful, dear, it's hot."

Too late. She'd grabbed the sides of the cup with both hands foolishly, so excited by the prospect of hot chocolate, that she abandoned all reason and logic. Shaking her hands, Tifa maneuvered her fingers over the handle quickly.

"Thanks." Tifa replied absently, cursing her over-eagerness.

"You're welcome, sweetie. Anything else I can get you?"

Tifa generally disliked diminutives when coming from strangers, but for one reason or the other, when Anya did it....she wasn't quite bothered by it.

"Nope, I'm good. Thanks a bunch...again."

"No worries." Anya said with a little grin, "Well, if you won't be needing anything else, I'll be popping downstairs to do some laundry...just in case you do need me." She turned to walk away, thought better of it and paused, "Would you mind answering the door?"

"No prob, Bob. I got it covered. You go do what you gotta do."

"Great. See you in two shakes.", the maid replied cheerily.

Just before she left the room, she propped open the living room door, so that Tifa could hear the door chime. Tifa didn't take much notice of the woman leaving; she was too absorbed in her Cup o'Heaven. She sipped it carefully and savored the syrupy flavor, impatient for it to cool so she could drink more. Tipping the cup up, she was delighted to find that Anya had thrown in some of those tiny marshmallows. The last maid _never _put marshmallows in. Especially the dinky little ones she was fond of.

In her book, not putting tiny marshmallows in your hot chocolate was something akin to sacrilege. People, like the last maid, who shunned the marshmallow were evil and not to be trusted, AND in her humble opinion should generally be regarded with suspicion and righteous ire. It was official, she LOVED the new maid. She made a mental note to tell her Dad that this one was a keeper.

Taking another long sip, she was delighted to capture a half melted marshmallow in her mouth, which she promptly began to chew. The cat had noticed she had something resembling food and he stirred. His head lifted slightly to sniff the air, his nose curling when he found that food to be chocolate. He lay back down and snuggled in again, his almond shaped eyes closing to nothing but slits. Tifa ruffled the soft fur on his belly, which made the cat offer another one of his strange pewling sounds. Another smile and another sigh of pure contentment escaped her lips. This had to be the most perfect day ever, in the whole history of the world.

Then the doorbell went off and Tifa scowled at it, ignoring the stupid bell. It was probably just that brat next door trying to play another practical joke. Well, one snowball in the face was enough for her. She turned back to gaze out at the snow and took another long gulp of hot chocolate. The door chime started up again, this time, slightly more insistent. Tifa groaned, she didn't want to get up. Then it occurred to her that it might not be the neighbor brat. It might be someone else.

"Nuts!" She whispered softly, giving the door a dark look.

She really, really, REALLY didn't want to get up. Maybe they'd just go away and come back later. A knock came, which was much louder than the chime and far more authoritative.

"Oh, just go away." She hissed.

Yet another knock came shortly thereafter, this one managing to be even louder than the last, which was followed by a series of quick raps. _Persistent bastards.__ Dammit_. Anya was in the basement, probably for a long time. She'd have to get it, she did kind of promise.

"MAN!" She grumbled aloud.

Whoever it was, they had better be on fire or something, for interrupting her quiet time she demanded no less. Tifa set the cup down on the wide window ledge and reached for a halfgil from her stock she kept there for just such emergencies. She got the cat's attention and tossed the Gil. The cat's head snapped up and followed the coin's progress through the air with mild interest. It looked to be a two coin day today. She picked up another ha'gil and chucked it. This time, the cat bolted off her lap and ran for it, tearing across the room like it was being chased by something. Now freed, Tifa got up and stretched her legs before making for the front door.

She opened the door, hiding behind it slightly just in case it was annoying neighbor brat. Poking her head out, she was shocked and a bit embarrassed to find it was one of the Shinra officers, who looked to be half frozen. Zack Brannigan was his name if she remembered correctly. The general's second in command. She stared at him quizzically for a moment. What was he doing here?

Tifa knew their time in Nibelheim was drawing to a close. Three days after the initial trip to the reactor, they'd finished up a good portion of the monster clean up. If she was correct, they should be done by now...in fact, they should have left days ago, before this sudden storm hit. That was what the papers Shinra had given them said. Perhaps their transport back had been delayed because of the weather. They'd come by truck, so it made sense but it wouldn't be _that_ late. Besides, the roads were slick and it was slow going but they were passable.

"Cuh-cuh-ca-kin-c-c-can I cuh-come in?" asked the soldier, very obviously trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

"Oh!" Tifa exclaimed with soft embarrassment, "Yeah, sure...I'm sorry."

"S-s-oh-kay..."

She opened the door wide, letting a swirling mass of snow into the spacious foyer. The young soldier entered with a swiftness born of training and the need to be immediately warm. His arms were wrapped around himself, firming clutching the fabric of his coat. He quickly pulled off his gloves and began to blow on his hands. Snow was stuck in his coal black hair and began to melt upon entering. Tifa shook her head, the idiot wasn't even wearing a hat. She closed the door firmly behind him, shivering herself as the cold permeated the warmth of the foyer. Her attention was turned back to the soldier, who was desperately trying to unbutton his coat but his fingers were too numb to accomplish the task. She rolled her eyes and stomped over to him, shaking her feet out when she encountered spots of slowly melting snow.

"Here, let me help." She said, with motherly irritation.

Tifa was very used to taking care of helpless men by this point. She unbuttoned the garment and helped him out of it, trying her best not to laugh at him as he stood there shivering. She shook out the coat he was wearing, noticing for the first time how inadequate such a garment was for the weather here. It was a thin, army issued cotton jacket. There was no lining of any kind, not even a hood to protect the head. This was a jacket designed for cooler climes, to keep out the wind and rain. She was sure it'd do fine in a place like Midgar, which really didn't get all that cold during the winter. But it was effectively useless up here in the mountains. He might as well have gone out in just his skivvies. Honestly, what was he thinking?

She flipped it over one arm and gave the soldier a solidly disapproving look. _Idiot_. How in the world this man got to be second in command of anything was beyond her. Shaking her head again, she reached out to grab his wrist and was shocked to find how cold his skin was. Tifa sighed heavily as the solider looked at her miserably, the curtain of his dark bangs hanging limply in front of his face. She watched him for a moment, again trying not to laugh. He looked extra ridiculous, as tall and strapping as he was...just standing in her foyer, knock kneed frozen because he was unprepared for the weather. He tried then to stutter out a sentence, which ended up as a series of unrelated sounds that came out haltingly. Tifa held up a hand and closed her eyes, silencing him with the look of utter bemusement as she shook her head in absolute disbelief. _Foreigners_. There was nothing much to be done about his situation but to thaw him out. She took him by the wrist roughly and dragged him into the living room.

He tried to object but he was too cold and Tifa was far too stubborn to take any guff from him. It was always hard to get a word in edgewise when she made up her mind and no man was half as stubborn as she was.

"Sit." She commanded, pointing to a chair that sat directly in front of the fireplace.

He did as he was told, taking his place silently in front of the blazing hearth fire. With efficiency that was near effortless, she bustled about the room. Finding an afghan, she tossed it at him, letting it land messily on his head. He tugged his way out, looking at her wide eyed as he arranged it. She chuckled at him. The solider again tried to say something and she held up a warning finger, which silenced him immediately. She disappeared and came back moments later with a large and fluffy towel for him to dry his hair with. Shoving it into his outstretched hand, she stood there for a moment before disappearing again.

She let him go at it, as she strode back into the kitchen. Quickly marching down the basement steps, she entered the laundry room. Anya gazed up at her questioningly from the romance novel she was reading. Tifa merely smiled and held up the now sopping jacket.

"Got any room in the dryer?"

"Plenty."

Tifa opened up the rumbling dryer door and tossed the jacket in, resetting the controls with a quick click. She slammed the door shut and the machine began to rattle and hum anew. The maid asked no questions, simply going back to reading while Tifa finished her business and left.

As she trudged up the stairs, she'd taken a small amount of time to think. Why was the general's second in command here? Surely, if they needed something they could have spared one of their less important members. Why was Shinra still here at all? Now it really began to bother her. Something strange was going on. She hadn't really reflected upon it much, but now that the feeling was pinpointed, she couldn't rid herself of it. It was like she was waiting for something...a terrible something. A sense of unreasonable foreboding had overcome her...a deep, inescapable dread slipped through her veins, as cold and unforgiving as the snow that piled outside her window, beautiful but deadly in its own way. On the surface, this dread seemed baseless but she couldn't shake it, not entirely and with a mind now troubled, she unfroze and ascended the rest of the stairs.

Jogging back up into the kitchen, she opened up the cupboard, grunting with dissatisfaction as the only coffee cup left was on the top shelf. She inwardly cursed herself for being so short before pouncing on top of the counter. Her knees raked over the uneven surface of the tile uncomfortably as she reached up to grab the cup. Stretching, the accursed cup was just out of her reach. She shifted her position; reaching as far as she could...she fumbled with the cup, her finger just barely hooking over it.

Her tongue stuck out between her teeth as she pulled it forward with a satisfied grunt. Triumphantly crowing to herself when she claimed her prize, she hopped down and skipped over to the range. Carefully, she ladled out some hot cocoa for the soldier, it would have to be warmed up but that was no big deal. Some of the liquid spilled onto her hand as she ladled and she cursed quietly, licking the spot where it fell before setting the cup inside the microwave. Moments later the buzzer went off and she carefully pulled it out by the handle. Even then it was hot. She searched for a towel and upon finding one, used it as a makeshift oven-mitt.

Tifa almost exited the kitchen before something stopped her. She'd forgotten the marshmallows. There was a brief thought that he might not like marshmallows...but it was quickly pushed to the side. After an involved search, she found the marshmallows and plunked five or six into the steaming cup. Satisfied, Tifa carefully shuffled back into the living room and presented the solider with the cup of cocoa. His head was buried in the towel as he rubbed his hair dry and he didn't notice she'd come back. In fact, he hadn't really noticed that she'd left. Until he lifted his head up to find a proffered cup of hot cocoa hovering in front of his face. He looked up at her with wide blue eyes. For a moment, Tifa was reminded of Cloud. His eyes were the same color and a shadow of melancholy flickered across her face. The soldier was apparently oblivious, and hadn't noticed as he reached out for the cup and took it gingerly from her grasp.

"Careful, it's hot."

This was not Cloud. No matter how much his eyes reminded her of him. This boy's eyes had that insidious mako glow to them. They were unnatural...and creepy, in her opinion. Shinra took too many liberties with nature and sooner or later, Tifa reckoned nature would turn around and bite them in the ass. And one of the most important people in her life had run to them in search of glory. Would his eyes look like that now? If he had been accepted into SOLDIER...they would. Why couldn't he see that she didn't care? Why hadn't she been brave enough to tell him upfront? This was doing her no good. _Damn weather_. Tifa shook away her sadness, staring into space blankly for a moment while the soldier fumbled with his cocoa.

"Thanks, "He nodded, still shivering a bit as he brought the cup to his lips. ".Hey! Little marshmallows!" he exclaimed gleefully, his voice still unsteady from the cold.

"Yup." Tifa replied with a warm smile as she came back to herself, glad that her gamble on the marshmallows worked out. "So, what were you doing out in this weather dressed like that? You have a death wish?"

"No...no...it's j-just...I've never b-been this far nuh-north before."

"_Well that explained a few things_", she thought as the blank look on her face dissipated and her thoughts strayed from her loneliness, to more pressing issues. She couldn't help it this time, she laughed at him openly. He really was a moron, but a likeable one.

"...And I guess you thought any old coat would do?" She chuckled again, shaking her head for the nth time, "Well, I got that dinner jacket you call a coat in the dryer. Should be ready in about an hour, till then...make yourself at home."

"Oh..." he replied, pausing and fidgeting uncomfortably in his chair, "I don't h-have that much time. I got to g-get back..."

Tifa looked at him with blandly narrowed eyes, "Uh-huh. You're not going anywhere, buster."

"No, really...I just need to use your p-phone...I..."

Scowling, she interrupted him with a dismissive hand wave, "Blah-blah-blah-blah...You're staying here until you're dry and warm. Don't argue with me."

All too quickly he acquiesced, deciding it'd be nice to stay in the home of a very pretty girl for awhile. Besides, he got the feeling that if she got it into her head, she was very capable of making him stay put, whether he liked it or not. It wasn't just the headstrong attitude; she had a confidence to her that most other girls lacked. And the general _had_ mentioned she had some martial arts training before he turned into the incredible brooding man.

Tifa sat down quietly in the chair next to him, plopping her socked feet onto the ottoman just in front of her. She could just feel the pleasant heat of the fire on the bottoms of her feet as it warmed them and dried the damp parts of her socks. Yawning, she watched the young solider for a moment before picking up a magazine to examine. It had started to darken a bit outside and her dad would be home soon.

Idly, she leafed through the magazine, not really reading it so much as she was looking at the pictures. World travel magazines tried so hard to be interesting but in general failed miserably. This one was no exception. Right now, she was satisfied with looking at the photos from some archeologist's recent travels to Cosmo Canyon. For what, she didn't care. The pictures of the native villagers were fascinating enough for her. Besides, it gave her good cover to keep an eye on Brannigan without being obvious. He'd really agreed to stay here too fast. She didn't trust Shinra to begin with...and there was a part of her that was still wary. That question kept sling-shotting back at her. Why were they still here? Why was he here now? Something wasn't right.

And the thought made her go still with unreasonable terror. She looked at Brannigan over her magazine. As always, he seemed oblivious to the part of the world that didn't involve him. Maybe she was just over-thinking things. Just feeling all doom and gloomy because of the accident that happened...or it could be something else. God knows, she wasn't the most optimistic person in the world. It was most likely just weather related blues. Besides, Zack seemed like a nice enough guy, if a bit girl crazy. What the hell was she thinking?

As if to relieve her own troubled conscience, she asked, "So, why do you need to use the phone?"

It was an abrupt and strange way to break the silence that hovered over the room. For a moment, all they did was stare at each other, Tifa looking at him with questioning expectation, Brannigan looking at her with restless worry. Zack turned his gaze to the fire, staring at it for a moment before going back to his cocoa. Taking a minute sip, he sighed.

"It's classified."

"There's something wrong...isn't there?"

He was stunned by how perceptive the girl was. Then he realized that his face was an open book and probably not that hard to read. Sephiroth was always scolding him for that...before....and now...His meandering thoughts tapered off and he looked at the girl with renewed seriousness.

"Yes, there is."

She felt like she'd been punched with a block of ice, but managed to quell the shock. "What's wrong with your phones?"

Tifa knew they couldn't use conventional phones lines. They weren't secure. She also knew they had a PHS radio system with them; the huge radar dish on the Shinra mansion's roof gave that away. Not to mention the army issued cell phones.

"Our satellite link is out or something. I haven't been able to get anyone for the better part of a day. So, I thought I'd risk using a ground line." He replied honestly.

She folded her arms and looked him directly in the eye, "What's going on?"

"I can't tell you."

Tifa snorted and shook her head, glaring at him, "You Shinra bastards. Always with your secrets." She paused, staring at him with grim earnestness, "Think for a moment if this was your hometown. If there's something wrong...we have a right to know."

Zack sighed, it sounded weighted...heavy. Like this was something he'd been forced to think long and hard on. Too long, in fact.

"It's nothing with the reactor...that's fine. It's..." He closed his eyes, cursing himself to the four winds.

"It's...what?" She asked, motioning for him to continue, "Listen, if it'll make you feel more comfortable. This is all between you and me. Alright?"

"The general." He stated softly, hating himself for saying anything. Hating that telling someone else made him feel better. "I think something's wrong with him. Something happened up there...I think....I think he's losing it."

She nodded in comprehension. Yes, she remembered him storming out of the reactor. The look on his face...for a moment, that empty void she'd perceived in his eyes when she first met him had left. The void had been filled and behind them was endless sorrow, he looked so haunted. As if he was being chased by the fleeting images of long forgotten memories or ghosts that she couldn't...didn't want to imagine. Sephiroth...the man, he looked to be the kind of person who'd already seen too much. But that look. He looked...he looked like someone who'd realized one, final horrifying truth that was too much for any soul, no matter how strong, to bear. Tifa's heart beat faster and her mind swirled with uneven worry, part real, part superficial concern. Berating herself for letting her imagination get the best of her, all the while wondering if what she felt was true. Was he unstable? Is that what Zack was saying? It couldn't be. Shinra wouldn't send someone incapable...and the Great General Sephiroth was far from incapable. Everyone knew that, even an inveterate doubter like Tifa.

"...What happened?"

"I don't really know. He's just...different. Quieter. Moodier. I don't know." He blurted out, clearly frustrated, "He's been down in that library for hours. The light hasn't gone out once in...GOD!....Days!...it's....I just think...I think he needs to get out of here. I think we all do. Maybe..." He sighed dejectedly, "... I don't know. I just really don't know..."

Tifa nodded, these Midgardians wouldn't be used to the quiet oppression of a Nibelheim winter. So, maybe it wasn't as bad as all that. The general seemed to be an impatient man, and maybe spending hours in a library was his way to pass the time. Zack was probably exaggerating. They were just stir-crazy and because they didn't live here, they didn't understand what was happening. _But something still doesn't feel right_...Tifa frowned, beating back her worry away and looking over at Zack sympathetically. His head hung low and he cradled it in one, shaking palm. Their time here hadn't been easy, that much was plain to see. Dismissing her dread as pure and utter foolishness, she tried to look at things more positively. Maybe, she could make things better for these guys. They were stuck here anyway; it wouldn't kill her to attempt civility.

She set a slim hand on his shoulder, "Hey, don't worry. He's probably just stir-crazy. It happens a lot this time of year." He nodded numbly, "I got an idea. Why don't you stay for dinner?"

"...I can't...my men..."

"I'll have Anya call up Rainbow Grille and have them send some stuff over. Hamburgers okay?"

"Yeah, sure...." Zack replied automatically.

It had been awhile since he'd seen such kindness and it was with much regret that he remembered it. He closed his eyes and wished with all his heart he was home. That things between him and Aeris could be different...he missed her and now that longing was punctuated more than ever. Past can't change. He was here now...and dinner did sound good.

The young soldier fell silent, staring into the crackling fire with a pinched look on his face. Tifa didn't have to guess what he was thinking about. Girl crazy moron he might be, but he was a good friend to be so worried, even if it was over something as silly as the winter blahs. She smiled as she stood up from her chair, stretching the stiffness from her limbs. It'd be better to leave him alone to think. Anya would need help with dinner anyway. She shuffled towards the door to the hall, lingering just inside the door and gazing back at the pensive soldier.

"The phone is over there..." She said, pointing to the dark shape that sat atop a desk just to the left of the fireplace. "....Just so you know."

He nodded wordlessly, glancing at the phone briefly before training his gaze back on the fire. Shrugging, she padded out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. Her steps were soundless, cushioned by the heavy socks she wore. Entering the kitchen, she noted Anya was already there, chopping up an onion next to the sink. Dinner looked to be already well on the way. The noodles for the spaghetti were already in the pot and bubbling pleasantly. The fixings for homemade sauce were out and Tifa smiled. She liked this maid more and more each moment. Tifa rolled up the sleeves of her sweater and prepared to join the fray.

"Need any help?"

The maid started a little, turning to regard her young charge, "Well, you don't have to..."

"I know."

"Well, the garlic bread needs to be made...do you..?"

Tifa grinned, "Please. I've been cooking since I was ten."

She picked up the loaf of bread the maid had indicated and cut into it neatly. As she prepared her ingredients, she lost herself in thought. It had always been an easy task when she was cooking. A nice way to work out her problems and still feel useful at the same time, as there was nothing more irritating to her than pointless brooding. She was worried for the strangers in their midst and it perturbed her.

This whole situation wasn't really any of her business anyway, but she felt compelled to help them out. Maybe it was because the lieutenant general in the living room reminded her of a more outgoing Cloud. She had to admit that despite her distrust, these folks from Shinra weren't all bad. They'd come all the way up here, braving the weather and the relative remoteness of the location. All to take care of a tiny little reactor leak...and now they were stuck. She bet they were awful homesick.

Tifa had spoken more with Zack than any of the other soldiers and he had related to her that he did miss Midgar...and oddly enough, his ex-girlfriend, who he talked about at length. They'd had an extended conversation about the nature of forgiveness and whether or not he'd have a chance with her again. Tifa had commented that she must be something for him to be so serious about her...and of course, she'd asked him why he'd let her go in the first place. To which, he fell incredibly silent.

She'd guessed it was probably her that did the leaving. Tifa wondered absently if he wished he was home right now and on the way to apologize profusely to the girl. She'd suggested to him as much. And what of the enigmatic general? She still remembered the flicker of that ribbon on his wrist, probably anxious to get back to her as well. Tifa sighed sadly, suddenly missing Cloud...wishing that he'd been assigned here. She wondered what he was doing right now. The back door creaked open and a cold wind rushed in. Tifa didn't notice, absently melting butter into a sauce pan as she stared into space.

"Gil for your thoughts?"

Tifa nearly jumped out of her skin, staring at her father with wide eyes, "Gods! You scared me!"

He laughed robustly, greeting Anya before hanging his coat on a hanger near the door, and kicking off his boots.

"What's cooking?" He asked, setting his briefcase on the kitchen table as he tried to glance over the two bustling women to see what they were fixing for himself.

"Spaghetti...green beans...garlic bread...." Anya answered chipperly. "Tifa said it was your favorite..."

"Sure is."

They chatted back and forth amiably before her father let them go about finishing. He ambled towards the living room and for a moment, Tifa had forgotten about the soldier.

"Tifa?" Her father called out to her from the hallway, drawing out the last part of her name.

She and Anya shared a look, staring at each other for a moment and then at the door. Tifa shrugged and went to see what her father wanted. Finding him standing just outside the living room door with a look of wary annoyance on his face.

"Why is there a lieutenant general in my living room?"

Tifa couldn't help it. The question combined with the befuddled look on his face was too funny. She laughed at him.

"Magic?" She replied with a little shrug, giggling harder at him when he gave her a stern look, "WHAT?...The world's a mysterious place, Dad."

"I'm serious."

"He had to make a phone call. Their satellite is down...and you should have seen what they gave him to wear in this weather. It was criminal. He was soaked and so downtrodden. I felt bad...so I kind of, sort of invited him to dinner...." She blurted out in one long breath.

"You invited him to din--" He paused in his outrage, realizing this was not the worst of her crimes. Stammering, he fumed, "Y-y-you let him call Midgar?! TEEF! THAT'S LONG DISTANCE!"

"We have a good plan..."

"That's not the point!"

"Yes, it is. We have an excellent plan, thanks to yours truly. So quit being a crank and go make nice with the lieutenant general. His name is Zack..."

"I know what his name is!!" her father snapped back, his arms folded and clearly in no mood to converse.

Her father had always had a dislike of Shinra that she didn't entirely understand. He'd sometimes slip and talk about something that happened a long time ago...when Shinra still had a strong affiliation with Nibelheim. And there were always the rumors that the old timers would talk about in hushed whispers. No body really talked about it specifically, but something horrible had happened then, something that broke any connection between the city and Midgar's number one corporation permanently. She'd always wondered why that abandoned mansion bore the Shinra name. But it was a question most kids in Nibelheim knew better than to ask about. No matter how curious they were. It was a fact of life. Just like you knew better than to climb certain peaks. You knew better than to ask about the Shinra mansion...and you most certainly didn't enter it. Something really terrible must have happened...and a ghost of her earlier foreboding brushed against her consciousness, and was just as quickly forgotten.

"Tifa, I need you back here!" Anya called from the kitchen.

Father and daughter shared a quiet look. He was still annoyed with her, but grudgingly.

"Gotta go....Dad....I..."

"Don't. It's just been a long day. I'm sorry I took it out on you."

"S'okay." She said, giving his arm a rub, "Tell me about it at dinner, kay?"

"Sure..."

"And Dad?"

"Yeah."

"Be nice to that soldier. He's not so bad. I think they might be stuck here awhile."

"I know."

"Dad...."

She looked at him strangely then. How did he know they'd be staying? Maybe Shinra had given him a call. He was their contact person in Nibelheim, so she guessed it made sense. Still, she got the feeling he wasn't telling her something and that reminded her of what she wasn't telling him. He looked at her expectantly, and she opened her mouth but found the words had lodged in her throat. It felt weird, not telling her dad something. Especially something so important but she _had _promised. _Besides, it's only the winter blahs_...and she tried to repeat that thought as a comforting mantra. It worked to a certain extent and she slowly closed her mouth and smiled.

"Anything wrong, kitten?"

"No...it's nothing, Da. Just...thanks..."

"For what?"

"For being my Dad."

She gave him another smile, weaker than the last. It felt so wrong, keeping this from him. But it was nothing. Just stupid...then why was she? Tifa pushed it all away and gave her dad a hug before lighting back into the kitchen. Anya had called for her again.

Dinner was served a few minutes later and at first, it had been awkward and uncomfortable. Her father had complained bitterly about all the trouble Shinra had caused them. Zack had taken it quietly, not saying a word in response. Knowing on some level, that'd just set the older man off, he was apparently smarter than he let on. Gradually, Tifa managed to steer the conversation away from Shinra and whatever call her father had received that had put him in such a foul mood. The lieutenant general helped by being extremely charming and eventually, her father warmed up to him. He'd talked about the places he'd been and the things he'd seen. He blathered on and on about his sweet little ex-girlfriend back in Midgar, giving Tifa and Anya a backhanded compliment, that their spaghetti was almost as good as hers.

Eventually, her father inserted himself into the conversation. Asking a bunch of questions about Wutai, and its prospect as a hot spot for tourism, he'd long thought about expanding his business to include other tour packages outside the Nibelheim area. Zack readily volunteered information, what little he knew. That Wutai looked to be a great prospective tourist trap and that it was a country in desperate need of foreign dollars. Aidan wasn't a greedy man, but he did have a mind for business and it was alight with ideas for a brand new enterprise. Sometimes he embarrassed her terribly, but Zack didn't seem to mind. In fact, he looked to be happy to be talking about almost anything.

He seemed to be the kind of person you could drop from a parachute into a foreign country and even if he didn't speak the language, he'd managed to befriend someone on charm alone. After that, they talked about sports...and that's when she stopped actively listening. It wasn't what she'd call perfect dinner conversation, nor was it the most comfortable gathering. But it had been nice. At the end of the evening, she had been pleasantly warm. There was something to be said about good food and good company.

Zack had made his phone call before he left. The look on his face told her that it wasn't good news. Apparently, they'd be stuck up here another week because Shinra couldn't spare the resources. Tifa had commented that it was utter bollox, and it had made him laugh. She'd seen to it that the lieutenant general was properly outfitted with one of her father's old coats. His was dry by now but inadequate and she would be damned before she sent him out there in that thing again to catch his death. Just as he was about to leave, her father had surprisingly invited him back, seeing as he was gonna be here for awhile and he nodded his agreement before wandering into the night.

And when she went to bed that night, she'd forgotten all about that one precise moment of dread she had. Letting her concern for people she barely knew overrule any doubt about their presence here, focusing instead on making their time in Nibelheim easier. She let herself drift off into pleasant sleep. Her mind straying past the hypnotic light of the stars that pooled in dappled patches through her window, wrapping her dreams around her like a downy comforter, she welcomed the darkness.

The sky above the tiny town had turned a crisp, midnight blue. This kind of night was rare in Nibelheim, a town almost perpetually shrouded in clouds. The heavens twinkled brightly in their bower. A single bright exclamation point strafed the sky, as a star tore its way to crash beyond the horizon. There was another night like this one, many years ago. Old timers remembered that night...the night that the devil came down from the mountain...but they'd say no more. Everyone knew what a clear night meant.

The pale peaks of the mountains twisted into the sky, piercing the dark blue like rows of jagged teeth. Looking into that sky, you could almost believe that the mountains might just devour the city if they had a mind to. But for the incredible stillness of the night...it was so peaceful but in that tranquility, was deception. In Nibelheim's heart this deception had been allowed to fester and rot, fostered by the superstitions of foolish old men and the bureaucracy of those younger than them. What should have been brought to light had been swept under the rug. The mountain had seen and it had heard, and it judged them guilty. The hammer came down swiftly and without warning, breaking the still night like shattered glass.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES!**

Well. Just a notice that there are perhaps three to four more chapters left. Just an FYI. This was originally a much longer chapter as I wanted to include several events in the thirteenth chapter. But alas, I got diarrhea of the word processor again and it was too long. Damn myself. Another update shall come soon. Until then!

Ciao!

Noa


	14. The Brightest Fell

_Tyger, Tyger, burning bright_

_In the forests of the night,_

_What immortal hand or eye_

_Could frame thy fearful symmetry?_

_--William Blake_

Tifa was deeply asleep and completely dead to the world. She'd always been a sound sleeper and had always snoozed through the most vicious storms the Nibel Mountains could manage. This night was different, the rousing chorus of the wind threatened to intrude on the gently muffled dreamscape. She stirred, squeezing her eyes shut and shifting in her sleep. The wind howled, whipping itself up to a full blown scream. With a muttered curse, she turned over and stuffed her pillow over her head. There it was again. A baleful scream that broke the tenuous line that led to sleep and her dreams...She moaned quietly, not caring how loud the wind might howl; only wishing it wasn't so insistent. Another scream came and this time, she wasn't sure if it was real or a dream or even the wind at all. She lifted her head groggily from underneath her pillow. Something was burning.

She crinkled her nose and frowned. Good god. The neighbor brat had set his house on fire...again. With a groan, she flipped on her back, turning her head to gaze blearily out the window. She didn't hear the telltale wail of the fire engines yet but she wasn't concerned. Nibelheim's fire force was small, but they'd dealt with the neighbor brat before. She cursed the little pyromaniac and hoped that they'd give him more than a slap on the wrist this time. Better yet, she hoped he burnt his stupid house to the ground. That'd learn him. With a grunt, she turned back over and collapsed into her pillow. Just as she drifted back into sleep, someone shook her shoulder roughly and she lifted her head, mewling incoherently at them.

"Tifa? Teef, are you awake?"

_'No, I'm not. Bloody awful obvious'_...she grumbled inwardly, recognizing the voice hovering above her as that of her father.

"Hey, kitten. You awake?" He asked again softly, nudging her shoulder a second time.

She dragged herself out of the comfortable haze of sleep reluctantly. He wasn't going to go away and she was painfully aware of the price of not waking up fast enough. Being dragged out of bed was an experience that she didn't wish to repeat. The one time he'd done that was one time too many.

"Mmmm....This better not be a joke..." She croaked hoarsely, her voice still thick with sleep as she sat up and rubbed her eyes awake.

"No joke, sweets." The shadowy blob that was her father replied, "Something's happened...."

Tifa was instantly awake, though still disturbingly bleary and tired.

"What happened?" She asked quickly, grabbing onto her father's forearm as he leaned on the bed.

"There's been an accident at the reactor..."

"No...that can't be right..." Tifa shook her head, interrupting him almost desperately, "But...Zack....He said that the reactor was fine....He said..."

"I know what he said. I know....but it is as it is. I want you to stay inside. Can you do that?"

"Wait. Wait...wait...I...What happened? Dad...How..."

"It's okay, sweets. The reactor exploded. Disturbed a nest of black dragons. I'm going to guide General Sephiroth up there to take care of it..."

"...No, you can't. Can't someone..."

"Who else is going to go?"

"I coul--"

"No. Stay here."

She tried to interrupt him, her mouth opened to object and he held up his hand to silence her.

"Just stay here until I get back..."

He wanted to say more, but his heart wouldn't let him and she could see it.

"Papa?" She asked, a plea and a question.

"What is it?"

"W-will..." She choked on the words and her lips trembled.

Gods, she'd tried so hard to be grown up. Projecting an image of a cool and confident girl, but underneath it all, she was still a child. She was only a girl and her father was all she had. He was her world and that world was now uncertain.

Taking a breath, she didn't want to ask the question but it came out anyway, "Will everything be okay?"

He hesitated, turning to look at her as moonlight and shadow cascaded over his gruff features. She could see his lopsided smile in the dim light but it didn't warm her heart as it always had before. Worry engulfed her as she waited for an answer. He said nothing. He straightened his back and stood up slowly. She could hear the vertebrae in his spine crack as he got up and a passing awareness of her father's fragility slipped through her mind.

He was always so strong and tall, invincible at one time. But he was getting older. There was grey where there once was black. Lines where there were none. A weariness in him that he'd never had before...and for the first time in her life, she was really afraid for her father. If there were wandering monsters, she'd be more fit than he to face them. But she knew he'd never let her go. As she thought this, she looked up at him with a worried expression. His face was veiled by night, unreadable. She felt him rest a hand on the top of her head, and she was absurdly reminded of a priest blessing the faithful. His hand slipped away and so did he.

For several seconds she watched his retreating form as it left her room. They were the longest seconds in her life thus far. She sat in the dark, her heart beating wildly. Would he come back? Would he really be okay? To calm her heart, she had to see and she ran. Her mind a wild and scattered mess, little bits and pieces of torn paper thoughts skittered across the dull pavement. She grabbed for them inwardly but they slipped through her fingers and so she satisfied herself with merely running.

Stopping dead at the top of the stairs, she could see her father as he walked down and towards the foyer. It was like a horrible dream. One in which she was running and running, trying to catch up but always failing. Whether it was because her legs didn't work properly or something was trying to stop her, she didn't know. But no matter how fast she ran, the figure she was chasing was that much faster.

Her father walked away from her, his shadow a retreating ghost. Paling in comparison with the dark figure he strode towards. Tifa froze in her tracks, feeling a jarring mix of feelings she wasn't able to detangle. This was the same figure that'd entered her warm world before and had nearly frozen it solid. _Sephiroth._ Her mind whispered the name as if to say it out loud would be an invitation of death.

He stood just inside the foyer, the door open wide behind him. Backlit by the glowing light from outside, she couldn't see his face at all but for his eyes, which blazed with predatory fire. Like the eyes of a jungle cat hiding in the underbrush, waiting for the gazelle to come just a bit closer. Those eyes looked upon her and they burned. Tifa felt herself take a minute step back, away from him. An unconscious move, uncontrollable. _That is no man_....a voice inside whispered.

She remembered suddenly a story her mother had told her. A warning tale, that when the gods were angry they'd send seraphim to judge the unworthy. They would streak down from the heavens and raze the ground, scorching the earth black until all was purified. Killing any living thing that got in their way, guilty or innocent, for divine justice is blind and their judges would not stop until it had been meted out.

The light outside flickered suddenly, creating a corona of blazing fire around the general's form. For a terrifying moment, her thoughts became confused and the reality of the story and the world collided. She looked at him with eyes open, as if truly aware for the first time ever and she saw him for what he was. A seraph in the truest sense. No angel, no benevolent creature...not even a man. A heavenly judge, sent to inspire fear and not awe. His beauty as cold and deadly as the snow that covered the hills of Nibelheim and her father was walking towards him. Her father was leaving with the seraph, he was leaving and Tifa could do nothing but watch, her hand clutched to her heart.

She opened her mouth to call him back too late, and her mind screamed _'Don't go'_ but nothing came out. Her last view of her father was him as he closed the door, and the light outside thinning into a vague slit before the night ate it whole. The door slammed and she was left in darkness.

What she felt was unreasonable and she told herself this. Trying hard to convince herself what she knew to be patently untrue. Her father would be safe. He would come back in one piece and later on, they'd both have a great laugh about it. He was with Sephiroth, the strongest warrior in the world if you believed the papers. Safe as a kitten. Safer than any person in the world. And it would be fine....but it didn't feel right.

Swallowing hard, Tifa descended the stairs, still somewhat paralyzed with inscrutable fear. Something wasn't right. She was shaking. She could feel it and she held out a hand to confirm it and found that it shook like an errant leaf in the wind. Looking away, she took one stair at a time, the descent seeming much like the last walk of the condemned. One foot sliding in front of the other, hesitantly going forward towards the inescapable and somehow doing that, she reached the front door.

Opening it, her eyes viewed an unfamiliar scene. She had thought she'd smelt smoke. Thought it was the neighbor brat. Wrong, so very wrong. Columns of smoke twisted above the tiny town, and she could plainly see the lick of flames on the far side of the city...near the Shinra mansion and the travel agency. The flames were spreading with ungodly speed. Already they'd consumed the houses on the street just before hers. And she could hear it then, above the roar of the coming fire. A soft moaning in the darkness. A muted wail. She watched, horrified, as the flames leapt from rooftop to rooftop unchecked as if enchanted to devour so quickly and so thoroughly. No fire acted like this, no real fire that started naturally, whether by dragon's breath or match. That kind of fire wasn't nearly so control, so precise. This was a fire started by materia. A fire made by man.

"Tifa? That you?"

She spun around, sighing in relief when it was only the neighbor brat's mom, "Yeah. Hey, Mrs. Ziffler."

"What's going on?" the older woman asked, hugging her worn housecoat closer to her.

Tifa looked back at the flames as it engulfed another house, "I don't know...but you better get back inside..." she said, whispering to herself, '_Or better yet_..._run_.'

But somehow the advice seemed moot. Nothing could escape this fire. Her conversation with Zack earlier that day chose to come back to her at that moment. Floating up from the depths of her memory like an unpleasant fog. It suddenly dawned on her. _Something was wrong_....a whisper of thought...._keep your eyes and ears open_. She shook her head. _That is no man_. Her eyes were open. _No man at all_. Her ears heard it. _There is an ominous aura in the mountain_....Tifa acted, barely remembering exactly how she'd changed into her clothes, only that she did. She ran. Past the neighbor, who tried to stop her and was met with a fist to the face. The neighbor didn't matter. Her father did. Another voice called out. Her husband? Voice didn't matter. Running mattered.

Her feet carried her to the travel agency with effortless speed. She passed burning rows of houses. The city square was engulfed in flames and crumbling, she sped through it, avoiding debris as she ran. Smoke was thick in the air and though running like this didn't tax her anymore, she was still breathless and wheezing. She pulled a sleeve up over her nose and mouth, trying to limit her exposure to the smoke that could very well kill her. _Where was the fire department_? Coughing, she slowed, unable to see as she got closer and closer to the original source of the fire. She could barely make out the flaming ruins of the Shinra mansion. To her left was the travel agency, she could see it. Relief flooded her and she would have smiled, but coughed instead. It had been spared. She stumbled towards it, hacking and coughing the entire way. It was so warm. She wiped her brow, reaching for the knob. It was hot. She pulled her hand inside a sleeve and used it to open the door. _Open_..._why?_ Didn't matter. Good for her. The smoke from outside had permeated the building and it was only a matter of time before it too was consumed.

"Papa?" She called out, coughing raspily in the shielded darkness, "Papa?"

She couldn't see and she stumbled blindly in the dark. Finding the door that led to the back office, she pulled it open, all the time calling for her father. It was so dark. The lights were out. Sightlessly, she groped the walls for the light switch and as she found it, her foot bumped against something hard. She flipped the light and looked down. What she found there was a perversion. Her mind was a complete blank. Too shocked to process the horrifying sight laid out before her. She couldn't process it. Didn't want to. And then she did.

Ismeta was sprawled on the floor in front of her. Face down, in a pool of blood. Her hand pressed limply against the wall, a vivid trail of red followed behind it. Paperwork was scattered all around the body and it had begun to soak up the blood. All Tifa could do was stare, eyes glittering. What had happened here? Why? Her eyes lighted on Ismeta's other hand, pen still clutched in it. She'd never use that pen again. It was a little thing. Those hands once moved. They were carefully manicured. Painted the same color as the lipstick she wore which was always coordinated with her outfit. Now both were stained. Blood hung from one fingernail and slowly, it beaded and dripped off, rippling the crimson pool beneath the body. A violent wave of nausea hit her and Tifa covered her mouth and closed her eyes. She had to get out. Can't go back. Have to go forward. She stumbled around the body; still holding her hand over her mouth...her other hand shook as she fumbled with the door knob and she burst out into the open air and collapsed to the ground on all fours, retching.

She puked until she dry heaved, sucking in wild breaths to try to get her stomach under control. For long minutes she stayed there. Shaking and gasping, until she pushed herself away from her own sick. The moaning of the city stopped. It was so quiet. What happened? No dragon did this. She knew what did but she didn't want to believe.

The wind stirred suddenly and she could hear the clear clank of metal against metal. Her eyes were drawn back to the door. In the knob were a large clutch of keys, just dangling there. She moved towards them and pulled them out. They were her father's. He never went anywhere without them. She could always tell when he was home by the clanking of those keys.

There was blood on them.

Blind panic slammed into her chest and she turned towards the trailhead she'd led the Shinra up days ago, her gaze lifting to take in the mountain. Again, she didn't think. Clear thought was a luxury she couldn't indulge in at the moment. She just ran. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her. The wind whipped against her face, causing tears to spring from the sides of her eyes. Scenery blurred as she ascended the mountain path in a panicked run. The cold froze her skin, plastered her hair to her head but it didn't matter. Taking the bridges she eased over before with a speed that bordered on reckless. She stumbled sometimes. There was a large rip in her jeans and her knee was bloodied but she didn't feel it. The world around her had gone deathly silent and she watched it pass her by in echoing slow motion. All she could hear was the distant pounding of her heart that resounded, drum-like, in her ears. She remembered distantly that someone had once told her that no matter how hard you strained your ears, you'd never hear the beating of your own heart.

They were wrong.

Each step became interminably slow. Her legs ached and she could feel herself tire. Every muscle in her body burned and screamed at her to stop at once but she ignored it. Running was what would carry her to her father and though she felt she was going unreasonably slow, she'd continue to do it even if it killed her. She'd run so blindly that she barely even realized she'd entered the Shinra encampment, skidding to such an abrupt stop that she almost tripped over her own feet.

What greeted her was horrific, a nightmare that never warranted discovering. It was like a medieval painting she'd seen once. All torn limbs and blood, the only thing it lacked were the twisted demons hovering above their helpless victims. An abattoir where there was once a neat little encampment. She let out a high, hysterical laugh. This wasn't real. It was a nightmare. All of it was a stupid, pointless nightmare, taking her worries from earlier in the day and flushing them out of her system via this dream. She would wake up any moment now. Her town intact, her father safe and asleep in his bed and all would be right with the world. It was a dream. It was a dream. Just a dream...all a dream. It had to be.

"_Oh. God_...."

And her heart beat faster and the worry and the pain didn't fade and soon the tears that the wind caused became real tears born of fear. The wind buffeted her, sending a chill down her spine...the stench of death came with the chill and Tifa could do nothing but admit that this was real. The blood and the horror...it was all real. It was too much. All too much for her to take and the world spun with dizzying speed, and she sat down before she fell down. Her head hung between her knees and she breathed in and out in long slow gasps to keep her gorge from rising. All the while, she soundlessly cried.

The smell and the sight of it...there was so much blood and the lack of any sound but the crackling fire and the wind. Did the human body really have that much blood in it? Tifa shook and closed her eyes. She had to keep focus. She had to find her father, then she'd sort everything else out. Rising to her feet with tremulous calm, she took a steadying breath before opening her eyes. She swallowed hard, her fingernails pressing uncomfortably into her palms but she moved forward with robotic slowness. Sidling around the bodies and their errant parts, carefully scanning the carnage for her father, praying she wouldn't find him there. Praying that by some miracle he was hiding safely somewhere while the general he'd gone up here with was heroically protecting him.

There was a growing suspicion in her mind that it was nothing like that. That the vision of the seraph was a bit more correct than she'd like to admit. _No dragon would do this_, sensible Tifa whispered, _You have to know that_....These chaotic thoughts collided and panic rose in her again. She called out for her father, tears blurring her vision as she stumbled blindly over bodies and body parts looking for him. When she received no answer, her calls became more desperate, a seething hysteria entering her voice.

_Just let him be alright_...whatever madness had overtaken her town she could deal with if only her father was alright. "DADDY!?", she screamed. No answer. Just let him be okay. Let her not be right about the cause. _Please, please, please let me not be right_..._Let it be rogue dragons_...because inhuman monsters she could deal with. Just let it be...anything but this...let it be...let it be.....

"Tifa?"

The voice was so weak, but familiar. She scanned the horizon, searching for him.

"Daddy, where are you?"

A moan came off to her left and she bolted in that direction. Her heart stopped. He was still alive, but very obviously wounded. She threw herself to the ground and scrambled to his side. Without a word, she turned him over carefully and her breath caught in her throat. Again, so much blood. It oozed from a medium sized wound just below his chest. It had been slowed because of the cold and his blood clotting, but it was still an open wound.

"Oh....god."

Her lips trembled and a sob she tried hard not to voice escaped. Her father groaned, his lids half-closed in pain. That wound wasn't from a dragon bite. She knew the size and shape of it. It came from a sword. All of her first aid training inexplicably disappeared as she realized this. Gone, like tumbleweeds in the wind and all she could do now was stare...stare dumbly at the wound that was bleeding her father of his life. Another groan came from her father, this one more pained than the last. _He'll die if you don't do something, idiot. Stop it_..._just stop it and sort the rest out later. You can do this_.

She inhaled shakily, "I can do this."

Hands shaking from the combined force of fear and the cold that wrecked havoc on her body, she opened up the front of her father's shirt. What lay beneath was blood and gore she couldn't even bear to see, because it was her father. This was her father, laying here like this. The wound gaped back at her, raw and open and very red. Oozing gelatinous blood in long, thick rivulets, the reddish well of torn flesh revealed layer after layer of exposed meat.

Tifa gagged and turned away, tears exploding from her eyes in a violent torrent of salt that cascaded down her cheeks. The salt reaching her mouth as she gasped and it tasted bitter. She clamped a hand over her mouth again and fought the pounding waves of nausea. Breathing in and out through her fingers in loud, desperate gasps, and by will alone she stopped it. Using every bit of training she endured to calm her heart and her stomach. She forced control upon herself, tamped down the wave of emotions that threatened to engulf her...and turned slowly back to her father.

Her entire body trembled and trying hard not to think, Tifa shakily grabbed her sweater and prepared to rip it. Numb fingers worked at the stitches and her ire rose. Nothing was as easy as it was in movies or stories. Ripping this one piece of cloth was no exception. It was exceedingly stubborn. The stitches didn't budge, the fabric didn't rip and several frustrating minutes was spent in trying to get it to do what she wanted.

"Just rip you piece of shit..." she hissed at it angrily.

With a grunt and a sharp tug, the damned thing finally gave. She wasted no time on idle thought. Cleaning the wound with melted snow and pressing the bit of fabric to it to staunch the slow bleeding. It was bad. She knew it. If help didn't arrive soon, he'd die. She couldn't drag him down the entire mountain by herself. So she had to trust to hope. The fire department had to be out by now, as well as the police and the Shinra general couldn't have killed all his men. They'd come up here eventually. She just had to be patient. Just had to wait. She pulled the makeshift bandage away to check the wound. God...it wouldn't stop. Even with the cold, it wouldn't stop.

* * *

Licking her lips, she pushed a bit more firmly against it, shifting her gaze to regard her father. He was so pale. His lips were bloodless, that ruddy glow to his cheeks was gone. Inwardly, she screamed with frustrated fear. He couldn't die. She wouldn't let him. His eyes opened, they were glazed but finding her face, they sparkled a bit with recognition. He smiled weakly, his breath hitching with relief.

"Hey, kitten..."

"Hey, Da...How you doin'?"

"Not so good."

"No, don't say that. You're okay. I'm here and it'll all be okay." She replied in blatant denial, pausing to gaze at him with a fragile smile. She whispered, "It'll be okay...we just have to wait for someone to..."

Her father shook his head, setting a bloodied hand over her own. He spoke haltingly, breathing each word through clenched teeth, "No...no one's coming. They're all..d-dead. This wound...too bad...Teef...You have to get out of here...Se--"

"No." She said, more firmly than she intended.

Her dark brown eyes reflected her inflexibility on the issue. She would NOT move from this spot. Not without him. Her face was tear streaked and smudged with dirt and more tears threatened to fall. She looked like a sparrow that had broken its wing, so helpless in the midst of all this carnage. That belied her inner strength, which poured from her eyes as fast and as furious as her own tears.

"What happened?" She asked, with a dangerous finality to it despite the nasal tone of her voice.

A long stretch of silence overwhelmed them. Her mind was forced to beat back a myriad of horrible images. Each one more terrible than the last. None of them involved what the hidden part of her mind knew but refused to believe, forgetting that sometimes, the most terrifying monsters are those that wear human faces.

"S-Se-Sephiroth...."

Her ears heard nothing after that. She knew it. All this time she knew it, she felt it and she ignored it. Knew it. Knew it. Knew it. She knew it before it had even happened and had said nothing. Felt it before Zack even told her but she pushed it away. She'd seen it the minute she'd met him in the travel agency so many weeks before. And she'd kept it to herself, waved away her feelings as superstitious nonsense and this was where her negligence led her. But _what could you have done? Who would have believed you?_ 'Shut up.' she snapped at that sensible part of herself that chose this moment to try and relieve herself of guilt. _You're not the guilty one. He is._ She opened the tinderbox and waited.

"Why?" she asked, in an almost calm, businesslike manner.

"Duh-don't know....Just w-wuh-went berserk."

She nodded heavily, hoping and praying while holding her father's hand. The world quieted around them. She sat with her father as he languished in pain, looking at him and deep inside she knew these were their last moments together as father and daughter. Tifa fought back the tears and the desperation, the fear of his imminent death knotting inside of her. Oddly enough, she wasn't cold. The inferno around them took care of that. It couldn't really spread anywhere else and so it just burned uselessly. To Tifa, everything seemed muted and bereft of life. Death surrounded her, inside and out and at that moment, she gave into despair. No one was coming. They were alone on this god damned mountain. Her imaginary fingers pulled out the flint, preparing to strike, her heart waited patiently for the flame to be lit.

Snow fell from the cloudless sky, much like it had twenty years earlier. As if nature confirmed the unnaturalness of the night's events. It drifted down silently from above, blurring the gruesome scene with a soft, white patina of faded glory and ageless sorrow. Things again took on a dreamlike quality that was by turns calming and disconcerting.

"I-I'm sorry..." her father stuttered out suddenly, seeing the change in his daughter's eyes and the subtle slumping of her shoulders.

It was a fatal whisper. The last dying breath of hope and she looked at her father with eyes darkened by its loss.

"What?" She managed to squeeze the word from her throat.

Tears hung at the sides of her eyes and she tried desperately to keep them back. Again, she tried so hard to be older and wiser than she was but her youth couldn't be denied. Death should have been a far off thing to her...but it seemed to cling tenaciously to her trail. Hunting her like a ragged dog tracking a fox.

"I'm suh-horry, sweets. Sorry I wasn't a better dad to you...I wanted to say that...haven't...got long...but I wanted you to know. So much I should have...but I didn't...Should have been there after..Sare...after your mother died...So sorry..."

Her efforts were futile. The tears came, hot and unrelenting down her cheeks, burning vivid trails of sorrow into her skin.

"No" she breathed, shaking her head, "No. Don't talk like that, okay? Don't...it's gonna be okay...we just have to..."

"No, kitten." he said, so softly, so gently that she could almost hear as her heart broke. She was losing him. "...I'm dying..."

"No...." A demand.

"Teef...."

"No." A plea.

The hand she didn't hold lifted up, trembling as he touched her cheek. It left behind dark little trails of blood. His blood.

"S'okay. I don't want any regrets...." he whispered, with a sad little smile, "God, your mother would be proud of you.....You know, I'll always love you, right?" She nodded, not caring that her face was awash in tears, "Promise me something, kitten." Another nod. "Promise me. You won't do anything...Don't die for me. Get away from here. Run....I want you to run, kitten. Can you do that?"

"Anything you say, Da....Just...don't...don't..." Her voice faltered, unable to say those last few words.

"Can't...I'm so sorry, kitten. So sorry...forgive me..."

"For what? You big dummy...Quit saying that... just relax now, okay? Things'll be..."

"Things will be hard...and I'm sorry I left you in this world..." He looked up at her then, eyes glassy and distant, "Funny old world, isn't it?"

"Yeah." She said, mid sob. "It is."

He smiled then. So serenely, like he was viewing something so wondrous and joyful that mere words could never explain its form nor its meaning. He left the world with that expression, his last breath was that of pure relief that he'd left all pain behind. For the second time in her life, she'd watched the life leave the eyes of a loved one. She saw whatever divine spark that was in them one moment, escape the next and again, she was left helpless and alone. Her hand gripped his more firmly, as if she could prevent his death by doing so. Tifa stared at his hand in hers, stared at it like it was the only thing left in the universe. Her only tie to this existence...and it had been broken.

_"Dad, my fingers are tired. Can I stop now?"_

_Tifa looked up at her father, hands still at the piano, with eyes that pleaded for him to relieve her of this torture. He smiled at her conspiratorially. This was his idea face and when her dad had an idea it always meant fun for her. She just bet that he'd take her somewhere really neat this time. _

_"Well, I did find this beautiful well just the other day...but..." He paused and winked at her, the grin never leaving his face, "Don't tell your mother." She nodded and hopped off the seat. He held his hand out. "Gimme yer paw." _

_The little girl smiled and took his hand_.... Tifa blearily shook away the remembrance, still holding her father's hand. With slow defeat, she buried her head in his chest and wept. The snow fell all around them, like the fast and distant strokes of a painter; it covered over the carnage that surrounded them. It shrouded the encampment in pure white, the snow standing out brilliantly, blinding in its whiteness. She stayed there as if frozen to the spot, letting the snow gather on her shivering form. Not caring one bit if she died there. More snow fell, faster and in larger flakes...lending a surreal beauty to the stark image.

"_I'm already dead_"...she thought, "_I just haven't realized it yet_."

Minutes became hours, hours became days and it seemed like she'd been here for somewhere short of forever. Maybe this was eternity. Maybe she was forever trapped in this moment and time just looped around her like the sick skipping of a frame being constantly rewound. She hoped whoever engineered this in heaven was happy. No, no. There was no heaven and no god...any goodness in this world was a fluke, an accident. No divine watch dog hovered above this ball of rock to guide humanity. There was no kind and loving deity that awaited the soul after death. There was only death and the bleak nothingness that came after. Besides, what kind of god would do this? Would allow this...this sickness to happen? And the bitter defeat soaked through the walls of her heart to her mind and sunk into her soul.

Tifa lifted her head slowly; it felt heavy from all the crying. So heavy that she imagined her neck might shatter like glass. No more tears came. It hurt too much to cry. She gazed down at her father, his face so still in death. Peaceful. The world...It had stopped for him, and he'd gotten off on the next stop without her. Now she was left to wait for the bus alone. Wasn't fair...Tenderly, she wiped the blood from his lips, the dirt from his face and she pushed back an errant lock of hair one last time before closing his eyes. His hair had always given him trouble like that. It was time for him to get a haircut. She was going to remind him. Tell him he was getting cat ears but it was too late now. She placed his hands over his heart, stroking his worn knuckles as the snow fell. It melted when it touched his skin. Still warm.

A flake hit her cheek and she shivered as the gentle cold brought her back to reality. She looked around at the carnage as it disappeared under the gathering flurries of snow. Would Shinra cover this up the same way? Bury it under a stack of papers, just like whatever had happened here twenty years ago? Or maybe...maybe this was their revenge for Nibelheim slipping through their fingers. Maybe they were the new Wutai and this was their grammar school lesson in how to not fuck with Shinra.

They'd known...that much she figured out. They knew Sephiroth was unstable. Why else would they send him here? The great hero of Midgar, coming to an otherwise undistinguished little nothing town like Nibelheim...to kill monsters. It was fucking ridiculous. They'd only send him here if they thought they couldn't trust him anywhere else and even then, they were wrong. But if he fucked up here...if he fucked up here, who the hell would care. The world at large barely knew Nibelheim existed. They knew. God damn it, the fucking bastards knew. Zack had said it. He called them and they ignored him. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something else behind this...something more sinister than she could begin to guess but that one plain fact held true. Shinra knew he was a liability and they didn't care. The pain and the rage grew and the flint struck...and she burned.

She felt her blood turn cold and deadly, an unseen wound bled out but it couldn't bother her anymore. Not with ice in her veins where blood should be. Let it bleed. Let it bleed and burn until there was nothing left. She forgot her promise to her father and she let it bleed instead. They'd taken him from her. Taken everything. Her town...Cloud. And now her father. He was all she had and they took it. _He_ took it. _He_ that wouldn't be named, not for fear but for the hate it induced. _He_ whose name she'd curse till the day she drew her last breath. Sephiroth...Shinra...she hated them all. They'd pay. She looked down at her hand still smudged with her father's blood. They'd pay in flesh. Eye for an eye. Tooth for a tooth. His blood for her father's. Her fingers curled over the blood, forming a defiant fist.

Rising slowly, she didn't bother to wipe away the frozen tears or the vertical stripes of blood still left on her cheek from where her father touched her. It was mortal war paint, to prepare her for the gift she was to give. They'd all pay. Death was her gift to them. Death was the only gift she had and she would give it willingly. Her gaze left her clenched fist, coolly regarding the ground as she searched for a weapon. A sword lay next to the battered body of a Shinra grunt. She picked it up without hesitation. Held it aloft, swinging it to gauge its weight, gazing at the surface and checking the blade before she was satisfied it'd do. She looked at its mirrored surface and was startled to see the eyes that stared back at her. The placid cocoa brown she'd always known was gone. These eyes were filled with cold fire. They burned...like he burned. Like the town burned. She barely recognized herself in them and the sensible part of her surged up and screamed at her to think. What was she doing? It was quickly shut out. Vengeance is a living thing. It writhes and crawls and motivates through pain and fury. It is without logic. Without mercy. It consumes until there is nothing left...and she burned.

The sword would serve her...and she would serve vengeance. Lowering her weapon, her eyes locked on the unguarded reactor entrance. Snow fell around her and the wind stirred. Long tendrils of dark hair drifted over her face, obscuring her vision. She brushed it away carelessly. Standing there like that she was the very image of a warrior maiden of old, dangerous but with a tragic beauty that seemed to never fade, no matter what horrors were put to her. With a languidly relentless stride, she stalked forward. Walked through the blood and the bodies...she walked through the fire and was not surprised to find it did not burn.

The door to the reactor loomed. It should have been forbidding. She should have been afraid. Her hand touched the logo as she peered upwards. Whatever came after this moment...didn't matter. She had nothing more to lose anyway. Her leg raised and swung forward and the door unhinged from the force of her kick. Busting inward, it fell with an unceremonious clank as she stepped inside. She paused for a beat before entering, surveying the dark interior carefully as she stepped over the door. An eerie sort of calm had overcome her. This was what she was set here to do, to put down a rabid dog. She looked up and saw the object of her hate. The white haired devil stood at the top of a long set of stairs. His hand rested on another door and he was whispering to it, begging it for something as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

"SEPHIROTH!", She snarled, in a voice laden with fury.

He turned ever so slightly to regard this nuisance, his silver hair glinting in the half light as he moved. The look in his eyes as he pivoted to face her chilled her to the bone. There was nothing there. Less than nothing. Not even a void, his eyes were black holes and all light was engulfed by their gaze. _He's insane_...Her eyes narrowed. Sane or insane. Didn't matter.

She'd gazed into the mouth of madness and couldn't look away. This man...he was...he was no man. He might have been before, but this...thing...that stood in front of her was evil. Inhuman, ungodly evil that was given a fair countenance....a disguise that fooled you into believing you were dealing with a man. But it was no man. What could she do against such a thing? She was just a girl...a foolish little girl, with a borrowed sword and a handful of techniques that couldn't hope to manage against the strongest warrior in the world. It was suicide. To fight him meant she'd die...The image of her father's battered body appeared before her. Ismeta. Her town....She was dead already. _And death is my gift_..._my gift to you_. The realization came and her calm returned. Her eyes went cold and she raised her sword.

"I owe you pain." She spit each word out with venomous clarity, glaring at him with all the hate she held in her heart.

The sonvabitch actually smiled.

"Leave, human...or do you wish to fight me?"

Red filled her vision and she lunged for him, sword outstretched. He didn't move, waiting with bored disinterest at the top of the stairs. In a graceful mirror of her fight on the mountaintop, she pushed herself off the ground and launched herself into the air. Doing a mid-air flip, she brought the sword down over her head. With a resonating clang, the blow was deflected with the easy flicker of the demon's wrist and with such force that it sent her flying backward. She managed to gain control of her descent and landed at the bottom of the stairs on bended knee. Languidly, she turned her face up to glare at him through the dark cascade of her bangs. This wasn't over.

Almost casually, he descended the stairs towards her, a mirthless and arrogant smirk on his face. He was toying with her. She expected that. Did she have a chance against him? No. Was there danger in playing with his prey like this?

Tifa sneered and somersaulted to her left side as he neared, vaulting herself up off the floor with one hand. She struck. He blocked. Raking the edge of her sword against his so hard it generated sparks. She pivoted out of the trap, swiping at him with wild, yet eerily precise strokes. None of them hit. He was barely even looking at her and he managed to parry every blow. Tifa became frustrated and in the moment, she let her anger take over and she lost focus. She hefted the sword over her head and swung it down like a machete. His sword met hers with a sharp, metallic clang. There was a pregnant pause, where she struggled against his superior strength while he bore down on her weapon.

"...For a future disciple of White Crane, you are very foolish."

The thin blade of her sword began to crack underneath the steady pressure of the legendary sword and the demon who wielded it. A hairline fracture formed where steel met steel and with a loud tang the weapon split in two. The tip of her sword fell to the floor, the sound as it hit the floor curiously resembled a death knell. The other half of the sword remained in grip, her hands clinging to it so hard that her knuckles had gone white. She snarled and broke away. Swinging her arms behind her, she caught the floor with a hand. Her legs followed her and in that split second, she flung what remained of the sword at him. He caught it easily. It was an odd moment of clarity, as time paused in its constant ticking. Silver hair floated gently to the floor...and a small wound at his neck opened and bled. He was surprised.

She used her advantage and came at him. In one motion, she lifted her foot into the air, well above her head, and swung it out. The steel toe of her boot connected with his sword hand, which she'd noticed he'd be favoring, perhaps from an old wound. It was enough to knock the masamune from his hand but the realization brought no triumphant howl. She pivoted and let her boot connect with his face, satisfied to see his head snap back and the look of surprised pain on that face. Twisting, she launched a series of devastating strikes on him which for the most part, were not blocked. The full beauty of her form bloomed and her legs became her wings, her ticket to freedom from pain.

Apparently he wasn't that gifted at hand to hand combat. It was good to see that there were some things even the devil couldn't do well. Her fist flew in for a knockout blow but was stopped. No, crushed by his hand. He'd blocked it. He blocked it. Her eyes widened. On one level, she knew this would happen. She had no chance against the greatest warrior that ever lived. They don't give those kind of titles idly. The devil had been playing with her again and revisited every blow given to him on her, beating her bloody. Hitting her so hard that the pain vibrated through her entire body, she tried hard not to feel it but it was futile at best. His glowing eyes regarded her as she sat on the floor, struggling to stand. He pinned her down with the weight of his gaze, like a spider to a fly. His hands were at her neck and seconds later she could feel the wall crashing into her back. She could feel the hard rubble behind her as it bit into her flesh. It hurt too much to ignore the pain but she didn't cry out. She only wished the wound in her head would stop bleeding so she could see a bit better.

His fingers tightened around her throat and she gasped desperately for breath. The world spun as she fought for air and as she felt the black tear at the edges of her vision, she gazed at the monster. The sounds of the reactor had disappeared into a high, aching buzz in her ears. Dots danced in front of her eyes and she struggled to complete her thoughts.

She was going to die.

"I'm sorry, Papa..." she whispered to herself hoarsely, the black encroaching on more of her sight.

The cruel fingers around her neck loosened and a voice that embodied unfeeling ice filled her ears. Her eyes snapped open as she gulped in what air she could.

"....How touching. He is an insect, as you are...as all humans are. Insignificant and you will all share the fate of such insignificance." He paused, his catlike eyes glowing brightly feral, "Humanity is a disease. A plague...and it will be exterminated. Expunged from history, crushed under the boot heel of a superior being."

She looked into those eyes. Her fading vision struggled to look at anything but those eyes. They were the mouth of hell, of madness and she'd fallen into them. So bright but clouded with dark ambition. She would die but she wouldn't lose her pride. Her eyes had gone glossy with the realization and she summoned the last of her strength. Those dark orbs flickered with a final spark of defiant fire. Her lip curled into a derisive sneer and she spit in his face. She spit her last breath at him and waited for those fingers to tighten around her neck and take her life with it. The bastard smiled. The same condescending smirk he'd give her earlier. He leaned in close. So close she could feel his breath on her skin and she squirmed with disgust.

His face was made of stone. She trained her gaze on him, turning her head sideways as far as it would go.

His lips barely moved as he spoke in a mere whisper, "The world grows weary...and so do I."

THUNK!

Something heavy hit her chest. Hit her so hard that air was driven from her lungs in one harsh gasp. Pain exploded in her chest and she was momentarily overwhelmed by the feeling. It burned. Breathing, it hurt. She looked down at the broken sword sunk into her chest. It had pushed through her flesh, thrust in with such force that it had most likely broken ribs. He stopped, still holding the sword with a faraway look on his face, as if he wasn't there anymore. She numbly stared at the hand that had plunged her own weapon into her chest. It was sunk hilt deep into her flesh and it should have hurt more...but the pain was fading away. Odd. Blood oozed from the wound lazily and with each greedy gasp, breathing became more difficult. Impossible, even. A wet rattle was in her chest, she could hear it and was taken back to that time she had pneumonia when she was eight. Same pain. Different cause.

His sleeve pulled back again and her rapidly dimming eyesight focused on the flash of pink she'd seen before. He'd hidden it and she'd been certain. It was a ribbon, a stained ribbon wrapped so carefully around his wrist. Who'd given it to him? Absurdly, she wondered what they'd tell the girl about what happened here. How much? If they told her anything at all. Would she believe them? Poor, foolish girl. To fall in love with such a monster.

She coughed and felt blood up come, gurgling as it dribbled out the side of her mouth. _Death is my gift_....sensible Tifa sang to her, with a sad lilt. She tried. Tried and failed. Broke her promise to her father. It had been suicide, a race with death that she'd lost but she regretted nothing. Only everything. She barely felt the tears that came, barely felt anything at all.

"Why do you cry..." his cool voice whispered.

It sounded different from before. Devoid of harshness, inquisitive, as if he really wanted to know. She looked up at him groggily. Burning black meeting cool green. She was shocked. It had to be her imagination or perhaps her pending complete mental collapse...but...his eyes. They'd changed. No longer were they angry neon but placid jade. The irises were no longer demonically slit, like a snake's but rounded. Human. A distracted look of confused sorrow flitted over his features and for a moment she pitied the bastard. Tenderly, he thumbed away a tear with a gloved hand and stared at it, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger before looking at her again with that same, sad damn expression.

"...You will see him again..." He said, the remorse in his voice almost sounding real. "...You are too strong to cry..."

And as quickly as the transformation had begun, it was undone. The human shell she'd seen had fled before the demon and his eyes burned angry acid. That burning malevolence returned and branded itself on her memory, etching the image into her retinas so that she would never forget the face of her murderer. It was the last thing she saw before he dragged the sword upward and pulled it out brutally. Her sight was swallowed by the darkness and she floated in a sea of black, muffled sound. She was barely aware of her body but she did feel him toss her away like a rag-doll. There was a sharp blow to her back and she felt the stairs as the dug into her but she didn't recognize the pain as her own. She was beyond it, tumbling in a half-conscious world of blue-grey. The world spun around her and between all the falling and crashing, she passed out. To reawaken minutes later and in agony.

Sephiroth was gone. There were voices, but they were very far away. She wondered if she'd be able to see her body once she was dead. The books always said that you'd see your body. She wondered when she'd get to do that. Something brushed against her face. A hand? She opened her eyes and through her blurred vision she could see a figure.

"Cloud?" she croaked, her voice echoing in her own skull. It was far away too.

The blurry figure nodded and she smiled softly, suddenly feeling reassured. This must be heaven but then why were there tears? She hadn't even realized she'd been crying this entire time, even while unconscious. She supposed something in her soul wouldn't let her stop. Perhaps she'd always been crying on some level. The figure didn't answer.

"...you came..."

The figure nodded, his voice choked with emotion, "Teef...what happened? I'm..."

She coughed when she meant to laugh. He was here, "You're late...." She whispered before the black broke in.

If she were to die here that was okay and if she was already dead, then that was okay too. Cloud was here. She could feel his arms around her. She could hear his voice as she faded away. Love is love and not fade away...a contented smile crossed her face as it froze in silent repose. She let her mind stray out of time into the helpless vortex of unconsciousness and just before all awareness left her, she could feel someone moving her before the darkness swallowed her.

As a lone figure left the smoking mountains, Nibelheim continued its slow burn. The moon turned molten red, bleeding under the relentless fire that had consumed the town, bleeding as the wound that never healed was wrenched open. When the morning came, when the fires died down, there would be nothing left but the husks of buildings and corpses twisted beyond recognition. But now there was only the night and the dark silence of death that overshadowed the placid surface of the lifestream. It rippled as the souls of Nibelheim's dead rushed into the planet's heart, shrieking in agony as they went.

And deep within the muffled night, Midgar's stillness was broken as the last cetra woke with a scream.

* * *

NOTE--THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! Two to three more, folks. We're in the end stretch. 


	15. The Love You Take

Six years.

Six years she'd waited. Waited for a sign, for absolution, for anything that'd give her a hint when things might begin, only so that they could finally come to an ending, it was a dismal way to live. Dismal life in an equally dismal city. Whatever pain that was to come was incidental. She knew her life's end, and she'd accepted it. After six, long years of waiting, what else was she to do? She'd found reason enough to continue existing and she'd been determined to live every moment to its fullest. After all, she didn't have much time left. "_How very pessimistic_..." she thought to herself, idly chewing on her lip as she struggled through the rush hour crowds.

In the grand scheme of things, six years was not a long time at all but it had seemed that way. Six years of waiting that had started the night she felt the surge souls, all crying out at once as they rushed into the lifestream. She'd never really slept well since that night. The sounds of those screams as they faded away into nothingness...it was too much. Their voices were harsh, sharp and soundless. They were without lips, without ears and eyes and feeling, and with no one else to share their pain, they gave it to her, the last living cetra who could hear them. The only one besides the lonely planet beneath her feet that'd hear their dying pleas and feel the stillborn agony of their untimely deaths, it was too much too bear.

After all these years, she could still hear the sound in her ears, even though there was no actual sound to hear. Those mournful wails haunted her, along with the visions they sent to her as their souls merged within the lifestream.

Aeris pulled on a lock of hair, fidgeting uncomfortably as she waited for the light to turn. Pushing the button on the corner lamppost again, she tried not to notice how much the noise of the city sounded like those wails. Simply walking through the city had become a rather nauseating affair since that night. The sound of so many people in one place all speaking at once as they mulled together, it was the living twin of the screeching dead and too often, it brought back things she didn't want to think of. Horrors she had tried to push behind her eyes, far away to where they wouldn't go, to where she wouldn't see them. Nothing haunted her so much as those visions she'd had of that night. The dead, they'd shown her to let her know what she was fighting and what she would be fighting for. They'd sent her a nightmare of blood and fire that rivaled the one she had of her own death.

Seeing herself neatly impaled on a sword paled in comparison with what those fading wraiths had shown her. Her death no longer plagued her, as she rarely dreamt of it since _that_ night. In many ways she wished to go back to just having dreams of her own demise, somehow it was more comforting than the lingering images of horror that played behind her eyelids nightly.

Something had happened, something terrible. She had an idea of what had happened. The magnitude of the event itself wasn't lost on her, but she wished she knew where it happened. When she'd woken up the next morning, she'd scanned the headlines in hopes of finding out what had happened. So many souls entering the lifestream like that could only mean that many people had died. For there to be so many an entire village would have to have been wiped out. If that were true, then it'd have to be in the papers but it wasn't. The news was entirely devoid of a tragedy, at least tragedy of that scale. If she didn't know that it happened, she'd have thought herself mad.

Of course, if she were try to explain it to anyone else, they'd call her crazy and there were days when even she wondered. Especially in the week after the dream, when she was so desperate to prove to herself that it hadn't happened, that it was just a nightmare, nothing more. It wasn't until she confirmed it with the planet itself that she knew with one hundred percent certainty that her nightmare was quite real. If that wasn't enough, the occasional flickers of remembrances that were not her own had convinced her.

As a cetra, she was used to the feeling of souls as they entered and exited the lifestream and the strange after effects of such happenstances. It was all apart of the natural cycle of birth and death, which ran in a complete and endless circle. She could feel it moving even now, though it was thankfully muted by the pollution of the city. It was one of the rare times she was grateful she lived in Midgar. Even so, the feeling of souls as they entered the lifestream in death was very unpleasant.

If she were to assign a physical feeling to the sensation it would likely be cold, sticky and a bit slimy. The birthing of a soul was somewhat the opposite. It was still uncomfortable but less disruptive than death. It was bright, but too bright. Sort of like looking into an uncovered light for too long. The strangest thing about the whole experience was that in birth or death she was left with the flickering memories and emotions of the souls as they touched her own.

Very rarely did she actually touch a birthing soul with her own, because they reached for life. They had everything to gain and nothing to hold them back because their life was just beginning. Whereas, the dying soul had everything to lose, it was afraid of being forgotten and it envied those still living. So they would tear at the walls within the lifestream in an attempt to remain as they were. They'd push their memories inside her as if that'd keep apart of them alive, even if it were inside someone else.

Most of the time, she was able to hide the effects such occurrences had on her. There was a time when she'd tell others but that only earned her the reputation of being a loon. When she was younger, seeing the dead as she did had been unnerving and she had needed to share it. It was so hard back then. She remembered the first time it had happened...when she saw and felt her very first apparition. It had shared visions of its life and death with her, and then it shuffled forward, its ragged arms outstretched. The wraith had begged for her help, pleading with her because it didn't want to let go.

It had wanted her to help it hang onto what little it had left and she had run away. She'd launched herself into Elmyra's arms, sobbing so hard she wasn't even able to articulate what had happened. Shortly thereafter, she'd heard the planet for the first time, accompanied by the soothing voices of her ancestors. They told her many things, they'd helped her but even then, she never forgot the terror that she'd felt. Never forgot a single soul that and scraped against her own in a desperate bid for life.

She'd learned much as time went by. Most souls were content with their lot in life and death. It was really only the souls of those who hadn't accepted their deaths that fought against the planet's natural cycle. If a soul died peacefully, with no regrets, it simply slipped into the lifestream quite happy to be reborn. However, if a soul was taken into death violently, they tended to cling more tenaciously to the strings of their former existence. This was why they'd send her those memories and why they'd pursue her so viciously.

It was especially bad during the war years, when millions of dead on both sides fell screaming into the void. She'd been relieved once the war had finally ended. Not only because she hated violence as a rule but also because it meant fewer aimless dead reaching out for her in the darkness. Things returned to normal working rhythm again and she'd forgotten the terror and dread of those years. The fear that lay behind every corner, that was, until that night six years ago. It had brought everything back in one fell swoop.

She'd never forget the date. March eleventh. Almost a full month after her birthday, which was coincidentally when she'd first met Sephiroth. Since that day, she'd kept track of him. Sephiroth still had a flickering amount of humanity in him. It was hard for her to pinpoint his location in the lifestream, but at the time, she could still do it. There were a handful of reasons why she did this but the most important was she wanted to.

Maybe it was wrong but since the day she'd met him, pity had filled her heart. She felt sorry for him. A man by clear definition, who'd been treated like an animal, a man who'd become a monster, not because he wanted to but because it had been forced upon him since the day of his birth. He should have been innocent, as all human souls are when they're born but fate dealt him a cruel hand. He was a soul that understood nothing about life, and because of this, he'd become an ally of death. And he understood nothing because he was shown nothing. He'd seen hell, looked into its gaping maw and it slowly drove him further and further into darkness. It was all he saw and having seen nothing but death, he didn't understand how important life was. He didn't see the importance of everything and so he'd drag the world into oblivion because of it.

The fault lay in the selfish desires of men, those men who had created him. Men who wanted power. Men who wanted to harness creation and bend it to their will, the fools. She hoped the humans that infected him with Jenova would die a slow and painful death. It wasn't in her nature to wish such a thing, but for all the suffering they'd cause, they deserved it.

On that date, she'd lost track of him and she knew why. The Jenova he'd been infected with had taken hold of him. The Crisis had been awakened; it had taken control of her vessel and used it. The something terrible that happened, it had involved him somehow. He'd fallen, she could feel it. It was like...he was just gone. Not dead, not reborn, it was as if his life force had just vanished. Disappearing into the foliage of the lifestream like a chameleon in the rainforest. It was then that she knew. Her days were numbered and every second that ticked away was one more second closer to the date of her own death.

For a nanosecond she'd hoped that maybe she was wrong. That all those souls that left entered the lifestream in cacophonous agony hadn't been the sign she'd been looking for and that Sephiroth hadn't been the one to cause it. Then the planet had to go and be a bastard, and confirm it.

_"It is the beginning of the end child. Prepare yourself_."

She tried to enjoy what time she had left. Despite the initial drama of that night, six years passed in relative quiet. The little arrangement that Tseng had made six years previous had worked out well. The Turks no longer bothered her much. Except for the occasional, unwarranted visit from Reno that was for the most part social. She tried to be annoyed with him but a part of her didn't mind quite as much as she pretended. Sometimes he'd bring Rude along, not that she could tell, him being so quiet and all. Most of the time he came alone, and with no explanation for why he came at all, not that she cared if there was one. She supposed he was lonely or something. It was nice to have the company and anyway, he was really the only person she had that was close to being a friend. Someday, she knew they'd be on opposite sides again and the part of him that was her friend would become her enemy, all the same she still appreciated his company.

She hadn't really seen Tseng in about six years, except for the not-so-anonymous card he'd always send on her birthday. She wasn't a language expert, but she only knew one person in the world who spoke and wrote in fluent Wutanese. And being that the anonymous card sender signed his name in a bunch of Wutanese characters, who the hell else could it be? According to Reno he was "hella busy", his words, not hers. He never elaborated what it was Tseng was so busy with and she never asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Elmyra was the same, as always. Cheerful but occasionally dour when it came to finances but Aeris didn't blame her, they had reason to worry. Midgar was becoming an increasingly dangerous city to live in. There had always been agitators who hadn't liked how Shinra ran things, but recently their discontent had reached new levels. A new terrorist group had formed and they were more organized, more determined to take down Shinra than the groups before them. They called themselves Avalanche and they'd begun bombing Mako reactors.

She didn't approve of their methods, but they meant well or at least she hoped so.

Of course, because of the bombings, the cost of living went up. The rich were getting richer. The poor were getting poorer. And Aeris and her mother felt it right in their pocketbook. Not only did everything cost more, but Aeris had found it increasingly more difficult to make ends meet with the meager earnings she made selling flowers. It had always been difficult but now it seemed almost impossible. She never made much money to begin with and that was when she had a permanent home for her business, if you could call it that.

About two years ago, Fennyman's Drugs closed its doors. Mr. Fennyman had passed away and his widow was too afraid to man the store alone. She was old, the city wasn't as safe as it had been before, and she just couldn't afford to run shop with things the way they were. She'd sold it to a large commercial chain and moved to Kalm with the proceeds.

Fennyman's then became the Umbrella Corner Store. She supposed that the name was supposed to evoke the protection an umbrella provided and the homey atmosphere of the corner store it had already been. The problem being that the Umbrella Corner Store did NONE of those things. In fact, the personnel she'd dealt with in that store were aloof and downright rude. They'd taken down and destroyed her flower stand.

"Umbrella Incorporated doesn't allow solicitation on its premises, Miss," or so said the very snotty manager when she questioned her.

It wasn't like she was being unreasonable. She'd only asked where her stand was, and if she could continue to sell flowers there, then the manager got all snippy with her. To add insult to injury, as she was leaving the manager had shouted at her back that if she needed a job they were hiring.

"Your neighborhood Umbrella of protection, my ass." She mumbled to herself dully as she stood in place watching the endless line of cars.

The light finally turned and she crossed the street. She followed the crowd, but she highly doubted they were thinking about the things she was. They didn't know. They'd never know. A part of her was irritated by this. At the same time, she couldn't expect them to know what she did. It'd be like wishing the sky a different color. She couldn't change the world. She couldn't grow a heart in the shell of a heartless person, even she wasn't so talented.

What had happened hadn't made her happy, but there was little she could do about it. In the end, it was just another signal to her that Midgar was changing and not for the better. There was no place in the city for tiny, hometown stores. No place for a little flower stand. No place for friendly informality. And it most certainly wasn't a place for good, decent, hardworking people. Most had fled for smaller towns and only the most stubborn and hardy stayed. Aeris was one of those stubborn people and she was determined not to leave for two reasons. Number one, because the planet hadn't told it was time to yet. And number two, she'd be damned before she let the heartless people of this world win.

It was a hard transition for her, because she had to find a new place to sell her flowers. The stand she'd decorated with carefully made arrangements was of the past. She gave up finding a permanent replacement for that stand and settled for becoming a wandering flower seller. It brought in far less money but it was either this or work for an Umbrella Super Store, and she'd burn in the fiery pits of hell before she'd do that.

When Reno questioned her about it, she'd replied that it was all a part of her five year plan to become a hobo. Reno didn't really find her joke all that funny. She thought it was hilarious, and mentioned it in his presence as much as she could. It wasn't like she was serious about it and just because she looked like a goody-two-shoes, didn't mean she couldn't occasionally engage in a bout of bitter sarcasm and half meant scorn at her own situation. After all, it was her situation, not his. She could laugh at herself if she wanted to.

She'd explained it to him as best she could, but god help him, he was slow. With her stand she'd almost felt like a legitimate merchant. Now with her wandering from street to street with her basket in hand, shouting "Flowers for sale!", she was no better than a panhandler. It irritated her. Sales had gone down. They were worse then they had been before, in fact. Most days, she was okay with it. She ambled around with her flowers, shouting at the wind in the vain hope that someone might take pity on her and buy one. But there were some days when it was hard to even get up. Those were the days when her five year hobo plan didn't sound so laughable.

He finally gave up on arguing with her about it but she could tell by the look on his face he wasn't pleased with her. He'd told her it was dangerous selling in the streets like that and she knew it, but what choice did she have? None. She had to work and though she disliked it, she'd do what she had to. He'd answered back that she could get a real job like everyone else, edging back into that old argument of her becoming a legitimate Turk again. She'd politely refused and he backed down, but she knew there was a part of him that hadn't given up on convincing her.

Ever since Fennyman's closed, she had made the entertainment district of Midgar her semi-permanent haunt. She tried to cover as much ground as she could, but she found that the entertainment district was where she made the best bank. It was harder to sell flowers in the business and shopping districts, as there were lots of stores all over the place to compete with. Most tourists and mid-day shoppers felt more comfortable buying flowers from a stall or a store. They tended not to trust a wandering merchant such as herself. Customers in the entertainment district were a bit less discriminating and a bit more desperate. There were very few vendors in the entertainment district. Most of the space was taken up by small galleries and theatres, and a few very trendy restaurants.

Selling flowers to these customers was easy because they were the gift of choice in the entertainment district. They bought them for the one of the actors in a play, to decorate the refreshment stand at a gallery opening or for their best girl or boy as it were. Whatever the reason, she could usually sell out her entire basket on a Friday or Saturday night, and that was a good thing.

The light changed and she crossed quietly, humming a tune under her breath. It was lost to the steady murmur of the busy city, becoming one more voice, one more note in Midgar's dissonant song. Melding with the crowd, she smiled as she passed the largest theatre in town. The Paladin was the last of a dying breed. One of the oldest buildings in Midgar, it was the grand old lady of the theatre district. It had been around for as long as anyone could remember, and it would probably be around for many, many years to come. The Paladin had been one of the first structures built on the upper plate.

When it was built, it was considered a remarkable feat of engineering. Lightweight and graceful, the building was surprisingly sturdy and it had been installed with the most brilliant acoustics any actor could wish for. It was said you could whisper on its stage and still hear it in the very back row. And it didn't just boast superior design; the Paladin was a luxurious palace, a playground for the ultra rich to mingle with the young and promising. Anyone who was anyone had either played on the Paladin's stage or dreamed of it. As a performer, you couldn't really say you made it until your debut on its stage and as an audience member you couldn't really say you've seen real theatre until you visited it.

Nowadays, the Paladin didn't just host classic opera, ballet and theatre; they also held modern rock concerts and other special events. It had changed to suit a changing Midgar. No longer did just Midgar's elite frequent the Paladin. They were joined by the middle class, and tourists from around the world who'd come to see the world famous theatre. Business in Midgar had been declining in the last few years, so much so that even the Paladin was hit hard. It wasn't until they became the sole host to the world renowned play, "Loveless", that things began to look brighter for them.

She'd seen "Loveless" when it had first debuted on the Paladin's stage six years ago. The same weekend she'd met and spoken with Sephiroth. Just a few weeks before she'd had that nightmare. The theatre and the play held a special place in her heart because of that. She didn't think she could describe in words what that night had meant to her. It was far too profound, far too real for words. All she knew, was that night...it reminded her of something long buried. As if, as if a light had been shined on her momentarily. A story of loved gained and loss. A story of struggle and hard ship and though it'd end in tears, there was also hope...and the light of something bigger than herself guiding her every footstep.

For a moment on that night, she felt like she could really do it. She felt she could take the world head on, no worries, no regrets.

The only possible downside to that night was that she had to go with Reno. It could have been awful. The kind of awful that fell into the realm of things she'd never speak of again, but it actually hadn't been that bad. Reno had, for once, acted like a gentleman around her. He'd even sent her a dress to wear, though she had a suspicion that sending it hadn't been his idea. For one, it was a designer dress. She knew because she'd passed the shop it was sold in almost everyday. It stuck out to her because it was bright, blood red and though it was spaghetti strapped, it had a rather high bust line. Showing only a bit of cleavage, which considering the women Reno normally went for, was an oddity. The dress itself was calf length, flaring out from the hip like the dresses flamenca dancers wore in Costa del Sol. All in all, the dress left more to the imagination. It was stylish, rather than skin revealing. He'd never buy a dress this modest.

Even when the night finally came, he'd been almost genteel. He didn't swear, or made suggestive comments, and he even kept the unnecessary touching to a minimum. Best of all, he ACTUALLY opened doors for her, treating her like a lady rather than a hot piece of ass. It was then that she wondered if the real Reno had been killed and replaced by some hideous clone born of weird science. Then she got in the limo and saw Tseng sitting there as comfortable as can be, and it all became clear.

They'd all gone and seen Loveless together. She got to spend a night in a beautiful dress, in a place a slum girl like her would never have gone to otherwise, on the arms of two very good looking men. It was worth it for all the jealous stares alone.

It also counted as one more thing ticked off her big list of _Things to Do Before She Died_.

Gazing up at the Paladin's marquis, she smiled softly as she walked past, weaving a path through the throng of people that flooded Midgar's ever busy streets. She was so busy remembering that she didn't even see it coming. _It_ being a one gil coin, which was expertly lobbed at the side of her head, hitting her temple with a neat thwack. Furious green eyes flashed, scanning the crowd for the bastard that'd hit her in the head. Her palm was pressed to the side of her now throbbing head and as she turned around, her gaze met that of the perpetrator of her pain and the bane of her existence.

Said bane gave her a cocky, lopsided grin, and said in a voice far too cheery for its own good, "What's happenin' hot stuff?"

Aeris was not given to extreme fits of temper but the urge to commit an obscene amount of violence on the red headed fiend in front of her was hard to quell. He made matters worse by plastering an innocent look on his face, holding out his hands as if to say, "It wasn't me..."

Her eye twitched and she lunged at him, smacking his arm ineffectually as she cried, "YOU JERK! YOU BIG STUPID FAT-HEADED JERK!"

Holding up his arms to mockingly shield himself from her blows, he had the gall to laugh. In between laughs, he coughed out in the worst upper crust accent she'd ever heard, "I see my lady is in a foul mood! Perchance, is there nothing that would stop'est thy temper?"

She balled her fist and punched his shoulder as hard as she could.

"YOU...YOU..." She stammered, gasping as she pointed a finger at him in accusation, "YOU THREW A COIN AT ME! WHY? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" She was answered by breathless gasps as he laughed so hard he couldn't breathe properly anymore. "Never mind. Don't answer that."

He reined it in enough to answer her, "You're too easy, you know that?"

"And you're a jackass." She snapped back, giving him an angry scowl as she said it, "The least you could have done was apologize." To that he grinned and she considered hitting him again. Thinking better of it, she sniffed and haughtily lifted her chin, "And...I'm NOT your lady."

"Denial is an ugly, ugly thing, Aeris."

"You should know..." She muttered, swatting his shoulder one final time to emphasize her still lingering anger with him.

He chuckled at her, giving yet another grin that pronounced his continued innocence in all matters. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he turned and looked back at her.

"C'mere."

"Huh?"

He cocked his elbow out, as if offering it to her, "Walk with me."

Aeris hesitated, scowling at him with her green eyes aglow with fury that was slowly burning away.

"Come ooooooooooon." He said, still smiling as he jerked his head in the direction he wanted to take. "You know you wanna."

Aeris was NOT budging. Until he made the puppy eyes, which was so ridiculously endearing that she couldn't help but acquiesce. She huffed and reluctantly hooked her arm with his, giving him a dark look that dared to ask why the hell she should do anything with him.

"What's that look for?"

"Lots of things."

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?" He asked playfully, waiting for the look that question would garner. She scowled and he smiled even wider, "You know you love me. 'Sides, there's this great new restaurant I've been dying to take you to. They have the best little cookies!"

She gave a long suffering sigh that was half real, half faked, "Fine. Great. Cookie place. But I'm buy--"

"My ass you're buying...Mah ladies don't pay for nothing."

Aeris thought to mention that the double negative in the sentence negated his intent, but she left it alone. She was too busy being mad at him anyway. Being as annoyed with him as she was, she didn't notice the underlying hint of nervousness in his normally easygoing manner. His eyes scanned the streets and the rooftops as they walked. Every stranger they passed by, he eyed, pulling her a bit closer as if protecting her from them in some way. Aeris paid no mind, because it wasn't all that strange for Reno. He'd always been jumpy when it came to her.

They arrived at the doorstep of Cookies Inc. without incident as it was only a short distance away from where they were previously. Aeris sat down at one of the small bistro tables set out in front while Reno went up to order. He didn't even bother asking what she wanted, he already knew, a sugar cookie with Carob nuts, chocolate milk to drink. Anyone that didn't know better would think he was her boyfriend. Once he sat down and they both got settled, they ate in peace. Aeris was feeling a bit less aggravated with every bite she took, and found by the time she finished it, she could question him without the possibility of a large amount of violence to his face.

"Sooooo..." She drawled out slowly, taking a sip from the straw in her chocolate milk before she continued her inquisition, "What's the occasion?"

He looked offended as he answered, "Do I have to have a reason to visit you?"

"No, you never do...unfortunately."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling as the words rolled off his tongue, "I can think of a few reasons if you push me..."

Cocking her head slightly, she smiled brightly, "Would your ass like an appointment with my boot? Because that can be arranged any time you want." She said, pausing before extending a leg, "I got my kickin' boots on and everything."

He took one look at her worn gardening boots and shook his head.

"Those things should be cordoned off, stuck in a biohazard container and dropped off the nearest cliff."

Her eyes widened and though she laughed, she pretended offense. It went on like this and for a moment, they were just two people teasing each other in front of a trendy sidewalk cafe. In the midst of all this, Reno could feel his smile fading as his mind tried to work in a way to tell her what he'd really come to say. She was laughing in that effervescent way of hers. To his ears, it was the best, most cheerful sound in the world. So singularly joyful that it would put the church bells rung at weddings to shame. Each passing minute was the toll of a different kind of bell. One that brought no joy and suddenly, he didn't feel much like laughing anymore. She watched as his face fell, her own laughter stilling.

"What's wrong?"

He looked up at her then, his blue eyes hard, "What if there was a reason?"


	16. Is Equal to the Love You Make

"Huh?"

"Why I'm here today. What if there was a reason?"

She felt cold then. Like a wind had rushed up suddenly behind her and sucked all the warmth out of the air. The playful expression he'd worn before was gone entirely; in its place was a somber mask.

"What is it?" She whispered.

"Your pass card has expired," He said simply, his voice gone soft with the gravity of the situation, "Got the orders today."

"Oh." She said, quietly nodding her head as she took it all in, "So...it begins, again."

"Yeah. So it does."

He looked at her, his lips thinning as he lost himself in thought. Thinking wasn't something he was known for, but on occasion he did it when warranted. This was one of those times. For once, his face was entirely unreadable and even though he was looking right at her, his eyes were very far away. If it were Tseng or Rude sitting in front of her, she wouldn't have been fazed. They were known for their sudden quiet contemplation. Reno was another story. It unnerved her. She opened her mouth to say something, anything to break the silence but was cut off. He dug something out of his suit jacket and shoved it in her hands. Her brow furrowed as she looked down. Fingers skimmed the edge of a thick manila envelope that had been overstuffed to the point where its adhesive no longer worked. The lip of the envelope had been taped many times to keep the contents in and even then, it didn't work very well as far as patches go.

"What is this?" She asked, holding it out in one hand as suspicion boiled beneath her skin.

"Open it and find out."

She stared out into space, fisting the envelope in her hand. Looking up at him, she glared.

"It's money, isn't it?"

He didn't answer right away, fidgeting in his seat a little as he carelessly gestured at it, "Just open it already..."

Her face lost all expression becoming as humorless and cold as her face could become. She threw the envelope back in his face and stood up abruptly.

"I don't need your charity."

Kicking the chair she'd sat on away from her, she was about to storm off before he caught her arm and dragged her back. This earned him a glare angry enough to make him wince.

"It's not charity, Aeris...You..."

She tugged out of his grasp, whirling on him, a finger held up in warning when he tried to interject, "No. I will NOT take your blood money and I will NOT be pitied for what I don't have. I tolerate a meal or two from you here and there...but that..." She said, pointing at the offending envelope, "...is an insult. I've said my peace. Don't ever do something like this again."

Aeris angrily stalked off, knowing that the ass would follow her, which just aggravated her all the more. Despite his job description, he'd never really gotten physical with her, not counting the occasional inappropriate touching. The point being, that he'd never roughed her up for real. So it was a great surprise to her when he grabbed her by her waist and hauled her, kicking and screaming, into the nearest empty alleyway.

He set her on her feet roughly and jammed the envelope back in her hand, clamping his own over hers. She was seething, her anger was so great that she couldn't begin to form words. So terrible it brought tears to her eyes. Shaking with rage, she refused to look up at him, for fear of completely losing her temper. The urge to claw his eyes out was already hard to resist. It wouldn't help matters if she had actual targets.

"Aeris, look at me."

Her lips thinned to a white line and she bit her lip. She wouldn't. She'd die before she'd do anything he said.

"Aeris."

"No."

He shook her.

"Aeris!"

She stubbornly kept her head down, daring him to make her.

"Dammit, Aeris! Just for once do what I ask!" He shouted, shaking the hand he still held with his own. "Why do you always have to be so god damned fucking stubborn?"

It was the cracked voice passion in his words that caused her to finally look up. He wasn't exactly crying, but she could see it there. His normally calm blue eyes were watery and wide with fear, something she was unaccustomed to seeing in him.

"Reno?" She breathed the question like it was air, her body becoming numb and rubbery as it left her lips.

"You have to take this money."

"No..."

"Take it." he stated firmly, squeezing her hand painfully to get his point across.

In his eyes was a deadly finality. He wouldn't be questioned on this matter any further. The subject was closed. She'd take the money, one way or the other. For a moment, she was a bit scared of him. Aeris looked up at him like he was a stranger, nodding dumbly as her fingers wrapped around the now mutilated envelope.

"Why?" She asked, her lips trembling, tears threatening.

He was quiet for a long time. Too long. And when he answered, it was far too slowly.

"They don't trust us anymore, Aeris. Shinra doesn't think we can get the job done...unsupervised. They think me and Tseng are too close, but they don't got anyone else." Reno went quiet again before speaking more gently than she thought he was capable of, "It's serious this time, Aeris. I can't hold back anymore. Not with two first class soldiers watching me the whole time. If I don't get the job done, they will..."

Aeris paled, clutching the envelope a little closer to her chest. Her mind went blank, unwilling to comprehend the danger behind his words. A long, uncomfortable silence reigned as she clumsily opened up the mangled envelope in an effort to redirect her thoughts. Tearing the flap open, her fingers brushed against the bills stuffed inside. She shook her head slowly, gazing up at Reno with eyebrows creased in confusion. It was clear she didn't understand. She didn't even try to, as if she'd never ever contemplated her own safety. Her eyes asked so much of him. Why he was doing this? That question summed up so many things and if he had an answer, he would have given it to her.

Instead, he just stuck his hands in his pockets, seeking out the comfort of his lighter. He really needed a cigarette right now, but last year he promised not to smoke around her anymore. His eyes dimmed as he watched her fingers thumb the money.

"There's about four thousand gil there. More than enough to hire a decent bodyguard. Make sure whoever you hire knows what he's up against. Don't let 'em go in blind, you know? Try and find yourself a swordsman." He paused, before adding almost absently, "Someone who can handle materia would be a plus as well...God knows what those soldiers are hopped up on now--"

"Wait," She interrupted, "This is all over my head. I wouldn't know the first thing about any of--I don't even know where to go to find a bodyguard. It's not like you just stop someone on the street and say, 'Hey, wanna be my bodyguard?' I mean...there are places where you go and find people like that. And I don't go to those places, Reno. I wouldn't even know if there ARE places..."

She looked up at him, lost. He dug inside one of his pockets and pulled out a very worn looking business card. It looked to have been stuffed in that pocket and forgotten, only to be remembered now.

He held it out and she took it, reading the embossed letters out loud, "Seventh Heaven... Food & Spirits. Finest pub under the plate..." Aeris paused and gave him a long, hard, glare of pure disbelief, "A bar...in Sector Seven? Are you trying to get me killed or is this your idea of a sick joke?"

"What, no! Don't be..." He sputtered, floundering for ground in his argument, "Sector Seven isn't that bad..."

"Yes it is. Do you even watch the news? The police raid Sector Seven, like, once a day. Just yesterday they found a body burning in a dumpster! A DUMPSTER! See! This is what I mean by places! I don't want to go to places like that...with danger and the possibly that I might end up dead and on fire in a dumpster!"

He rolled his eyes, "Oh please. Don't give me that! You live a sector away from it. And EVERYTHING under the plate is filled with danger and possible dumpster flammage. So quit being a nit."

She grumbled, trying her best to look put out, "I just don't like dark, scary places like bars, with all the icky people and the drinking. And I'm not a nit."

"Yes, you really are. You have nothing to worry about. Honestly! You'd think after all these years, you'd trust me."

"Fine, fine. I'll go to your stupid bar. Don't know how it's going to help me though."

"The chick that owns the place knows some people who know some people. Her name is Tifa, and she's a stand up broad..." He said, adding _'with a pretty mean right hook_' to the end of that sentence in his head. Shaking his head, he continued, "Anyway. Show her the card and she'll do you right. Point you in the right direction and all that jazz. Hell, you might even be able to save yourself some money if you give her a real good sob story. You know, some kind of father with gambling debt thing and they're gonna kill him if you don't pay up or whatever. Squirt out a few tears and she'd probably work for free..."

Aeris gave him a warning look, her eyes narrowing in displeasure, "Reno..."

"What! I'm just saying. You know, if you wanted to use that money for something else. Oh, don't look at me like that!" Reno said, stumbling over his words as the look on her face darkened. He quickly changed the subject, "Uh..aaaaaaaaanyway... She knows some people and she's really nice, so don't be afraid to ask for her help if you're not sure about who to hire. Just don't tell her that I sent you. In fact, it'd be better not to mention name at all. If she asks how you found out about her, just say a friend sent you or something."

"Wow. You and the truth. It's just a wacky idea for you, isn't it...the not lying. So, what did you do? Did your reputation precede you or didja just make a bad first impression?"

He grinned wickedly again, taking her veiled insult as a compliment, "A little of both, actually."

She laughed lightly, though it was clearly forced, "Everything's going to change, isn't it?"

He nodded solemnly, not trusting his voice and unable to look her in the eyes.

"This is it, isn't it? This is the end." She whispered, "Reno?"

He looked up, startled by the direct address and the edge of tears in her voice. In front of him stood a frightened little girl, not the headstrong young woman he was accustomed to. She was scared. Really, truly scared. In her eyes, he could see her thinking about the long road of her life and where it stretched out to its very end. Her eyes, they spoke volumes and he wondered if he looked long enough, if he'd be able to write a book about her or if she'd be just as mysterious as she always was. There was something else. Something he didn't want to think about.

He remembered that night when she told him about a nightmare she had. She had said she'd dreamed her own death and he knew she believed it. He hadn't. Predestination was comfort food for people who still believed something awaited you after death other than nothingness. Looking at her now, he began to wonder if he'd been wrong all these years. It was the look in her eyes that made him wonder. Her eyes spoke of a beginning and reflected her end, an end she didn't want but knew that her life or fate or something was driving her towards. And when that end came, it wasn't going to be pretty and painless. It would be hard and cruel and unfair. She accepted it, but at the same time, she was still just a child who wanted to live. Who wanted to just for once, be selfish, but couldn't. If he were capable of crying anymore, he would but he'd left his tears behind eons ago.

She said his name again and it jolted him out of his memories. Looking down at her, he nodded to acknowledge he was indeed listening to her this time.

"I just..." she began, finding it hard to pluck the words from the tree in her mind, "I...Things...might change but I just wanted you to know that no matter what, you guys...you'll always be my friends. I know it's corny, it's just...You, Tseng, Rude...you all put yourselves on the line for me." She paused, a knot forming in her throat, "It...it means a lot to me, what you did. So...Thank you. I'm sorry I--"

"No, don't. We're not so great, okay? I'm not so great. We don't need no thanks, no apologies. We're not good people, Aeris. Not like you. If we were, we'd just say no, but we didn't...I didn't. I'm not a good person, Aeris." He said, looking her straight in the eye, "I'm not your friend and I'm sorry for that. I'm just a shit heel who saw somebody nice and though he could save her and do his job at the same time. And I was wrong. I'm an asshole. We all are." he paused again, watching a single tear as it meandered down her cheek. He kind of envied how easy it was for her to cry, "You're the best of all of us, you know that? You find yourself a real good bodyguard and make sure he kicks the shit out of me..."

"Don't..d-don't say that..."She whispered, her voice constricted by her tears.

"Why not? It's the truth..." He said, with a dry chuckle.

"That's not funny."

"Yeah, actually, it is."

She wiped away her tears, glaring at him with a look that spoke of regret, anger and a world of sorrow.

"I don't care what you say. I'm your friend and you're still my friend, even though you're stupid and a jerk."

He smiled very softly, restraining the desire to ruffle her hair. Sometimes, she acted like such a little kid it amazed him.

"I should..." he said, gesturing towards the street with a flick of his head.

"Yeah."

"Well, see ya later..." He said, trailing off as he waved lamely.

He felt awkward and strange in his own body as he left. His eyes staring straight ahead at the dwindling crowd and he wondered how it had gotten so late. Time always seemed to slip faster when he was with her.

"Wait!"

The tinkling sound of her voice stopped him and though he didn't want to, Reno looked back. She jogged up to him and smiled brilliantly. Standing on tip-toe, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before hugging him. How was it that she existed here of all places? Sometimes he felt like he hardly knew her, and yet he did. He didn't deserve to, but he knew her and no matter what he said, what he felt or what he had to do, she was his friend and he hers. It was as simple as that. Aeris could make friends with her most bitter enemy, he knew this about her. Didn't know how she did it, but he knew...she'd always forgive. Always forget. Always love. No matter who it was or what they'd done.

After a moment of hesitation, he hugged her back and distantly remembered a time, not so long ago, when he hugged his dead sister the same way. The day she died, she'd hugged him like this and just like back then, he felt like someone close to him was saying goodbye. That this was the last time they'd ever be like this. That this might even be the last time he ever got to hug her, the last time he'd ever see her again and it terrified him for one brief, horrible moment. He hugged her a bit tighter, not wanting it to be true but he felt, somewhere deep in his soul, that it was the truth. She was fated for a terrible journey, one she wouldn't come back from and she wanted to say goodbye. He didn't want to say that word and he didn't want her to but they were saying it all the same. Goodbye was a word he'd said one too many times in his short life.

Eventually, they parted and there were several seconds where neither of them really knew what they ought to say. Reno couldn't stand the silence and shifted in place, scratching the back of his head as he wracked his brain for something, anything he could say to crush this new and weird quiet between them.

"Well, I guess this is it..."

She smiled and it seemed a little brittle to him, "Yeah. Take care of yourself. Say hi to Rude and Tseng for me."

"Sure, you be safe, okay? Good luck..."

"You too."

He gave her a cocksure grin and winked, saluting her, "Yo."

She laughed, saluting him back, "Yo to you too, jackass."

"You know you love me..." He stated, his voice sounding very far away as he melted into the crowd, "Ciao, baby."

She watched his retreat, shouting at his back, "DO NOT!" The smile that seemed so sure a minute ago fell and she raised her hand, even though he was long gone, "...bye.."

Aeris gazed at the street and the people that still thickly lined it as they made their way home. It was nearly six o'clock and though the city was still teeming and alive, it wasn't quite as crowded. Most of the commuters had taken their trains and gone home. The only people left were like her, stragglers who had no fear of the city at night and who wanted a leisurely ride home.

Something sad and broken inside of her ached and she longed to break down into tears. Contrary to what Reno believed it wasn't so easy to cry, especially for her. She felt like a small part of her soul died every time she did it. To her, there was something ultimately selfish in crying, selfish but sometimes necessary, though in the last few years she hadn't done it as much as she had before. Too much of her energy had been wasted in crying and so she'd tried to limit herself. Crying for others, rather than herself. She'd slowly come to accept her part in all this, even though sometimes it still seemed unfair. But she couldn't be so weak. The stakes were too high and what she had to do too difficult. Yet right now, she felt like just being a little bit selfish and she asked herself if it would be so wrong...so weak...to just this once break down and feel sorry for herself again.

And the answer was always yes, it would be wrong.

Soldiering on, she took a deep breath and tamped down her feelings. She had no time for this, and she had to save all her energy. Her task hadn't begun yet. She was still waiting, after all. Standing in the alley, watching all the people, Aeris smiled. They really were lucky. She was just about to strike out and leave when a gentle green light drew her attention. Surprised, she spotted a hole in the wall of a nearby building. The pipes that fed the building mako were visible through the hole and leaking. There was no mistaking the bright green glow of pure, undiluted mako as it oozed from a pipe.

Absently, she realized the danger but at the same time, she had no fear. Mako was the planet's life blood and she was of the planet. Approaching the breech in the wall, she knelt down and looked it, her eyes glimmering in the unnatural light. She could just hear the planet's song seeping through the layers of dirt and dust, working its way past all the wiring and machinery that separated it from her. It was so soft that it was very hard to hear, but the sorrowful pang of its melody was easy to recognize if you knew what to listen for.

The song had no words, no form, but she understood it all the same. It was warm and welcoming, if a bit weary, and it told her it was time. Her wait was over and her heart leaped. If there was one word it could sing, it would be 'Soon'. All her fears and worries, her melancholic tears melted away to nothing. Tonight, tonight would be the beginning. She wasn't looking forward to the end of the road, but the journey itself...that was another story. If she were to do this...if she were to die, she wanted no regrets or as few as she could manage. The adventure ahead would fill her full of life and hope and purpose. It'd give her the edge to do what she had to, she just knew it. Besides, life was always about the journey, rather than the end. And anyway, death wasn't really an end, just another journey and another road to take. She had nothing to fear.

Smiling serenely, she closed her eyes and for the first time in six years, she felt truly at peace. Motes of light separated themselves from the confines of the pipe, lightly touching the last cetra's face. She basked in the planet's light, finally feeling as if her purpose on this earth had a point. Joy suffused her being and when she opened her bright green eyes, they glinted vividly and she smiled just a bit wider. She was life and she would counter death, and set this world in balance as it was meant to be.

Tucking Reno's envelope deep into her basket, she clutched it close and stood up, walking out into the street with a spring in her step. She meandered towards the train station that'd take her home. It was an unusually quiet night in late spring, and it was already getting warmer. Summer was on its way and the cold chill of winter had been left far behind, and so it would be for her. She looked at the sky, streaked with brilliant reds and oranges. The city was in silhouette all around her, with only the fading glint from the high rise windows to give form to the buildings all around her. It was strangely beautiful, a word she rarely associated with Midgar. Sometimes she really envied those lucky enough to live on the upper plate. They had quite the view.

She wondered if they knew how lucky they were. No, they didn't. Most humans rarely reflected on the things they were fortunate to have. They only saw the things they didn't. Oddly, such a thought didn't bother her. They might not see all that they have right now, but sooner or later, they would. She'd make sure this world would be around for everyone to see that day.

Her reverie was broken apart by a tremendous explosion. Dimly, she realized it had to be one of the mako reactors as her body was carried away by the shockwave. Everything seemed to move so slowly as she hurtled through the air. This abruptly ended as her body hit the ground hard, leaving her momentarily breathless and stunned. She was pelted by debris, smoke swirling around her prone form in belching waves. Coughing and hacking, Aeris picked herself up slowly, wincing in pain as the first of her injuries made themselves apparent. Her elbows were scuffed and abraded. There were several cuts crisscrossing her arms and her right palm was a pulpy mess, her left had escaped with nothing more serious than a few scratches. All together, she was pretty much okay, though she'd probably be a bit sore and bruised tomorrow, it was nothing to worry about.

Her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered her basket and the large wad of cash in it. Before she could even manage to stand a pair of booted feet entered her line of vision. She tilted her head up, squinting as the fire light burned behind the figure that stood before her. For a moment, she confused the figure for another as one name came to mind, Zack and she almost said it. The figure moved forward, so his face was visible...and it was clearly not Zack but for a moment...

She stared at him in confusion, her basket forgotten.

He was young and dressed in a SOLDIER's uniform, with bright blue eyes and a mop of unruly blonde hair. The young man in question held out his hand and without hesitation, she took it. He tugged her to her feet and she stared dumbly at him, completely at a loss for words. When their hands had met, an electric current ran through her body and the planet hummed beneath her. Guardian, it whispered and she knew she was meant to meet him.

She smiled and whispered dreamily, "Thank you...What happened?"

The blue in his eyes shifted, darkening as he peered at her. He considered the question for a moment before answering slowly in a voice that was gentle and deep, "I don't know. Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Just a little dazed."

He nodded and let go of her hand.

"You dropped your basket."

Her eyes widened as she took it and she smiled once more.

"Thanks...again..."

"Don't worry about it...You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah."

"Well then..." He said, and with a curt nod, he turned to leave.

She didn't know his name. Didn't know who he was. She knew he was leaving now, but somehow she knew they'd meet again. On impulse, she decided to call out to him.

"Hey...would you like to buy a flower?"

* * *

Note--This is not the end, there will be an epilogue. 


	17. Epilogue

Between then and there the road had been long and winding, but not entirely unpleasant. She'd seen so much of the world...met new people, made friends and enemies. Eyes that had been naive and virginal had been opened and finally saw with wonder the world. In her pockets of her mind she held faded photographs of all she'd seen. Erstwhile memories and snatches of tunes she was sure she'd never forget but she'd put them in the back of her mind, because all of those things had led her here.

And where was here, exactly?

So much had happened along the way.

How had she come to stand in the fallen capital of her ancestors? That simple question she'd asked so many months ago was such a simple question...asking a young, handsome man if he'd like to buy a flower and from that moment until now fate had guided her steps. There were no explanations. No clear and pleasant plan for anyone to follow or understand. Her fate lay here in the bowels of this city, a city as dead and forgotten as the people who once occupied it. It was sad, really. She should be sad. In a few hours, she would be dead. She should be afraid. She should be on her knees and begging the planet to take it all away, but she was beyond that now.

The minute she'd set foot in the city...something had changed. It was inexplicable and new, and faintly strange and a little frightening. Forbidding and familiar. She belonged here. This was home. There were voices everywhere and they all called her name. They welcomed her.

She knew she should be afraid.

She should be terrified.

This was the place she'd seen so many times in her nightmares. This was where everything ended at the end of a sword. Somehow, terror never found its way into her heart. Neither did sorrow or anger. There was no pain. None of the agony or uncertainty that she'd felt throughout her life. There was just this city and the feeling of...tranquility. She was at peace here.

The last of the cetra, bound to her duty, she returned so that she could return to her people...to take her place amongst them. To be a pure spirit once more, not bound by a prison of flesh and bone. Sudden sorrow assailed her. She didn't want to leave everything behind. Cloud...Tifa...Barrett...Elmyra...all of them. Her friends, people who were like family to her...she didn't want to leave them. Not when she just found them. But she knew...she knew what she had to do and it was for them. She had to stop him. She'd held such hope...but she really was a fool.

He was gone and the 'it' remained. Jenova had subsumed his soul and there was nothing left but the monster. In a way, it made all of this easier. She'd seen the human part of him so long ago and at the time she'd pitied him. Back then, she'd held hope that somehow his humanity would win out in the end and she wouldn't be forced to do what she would have to do. So naive...

The first time she'd seen him after joining up with Cloud, she knew exactly how naive that hope had been. He didn't even recognize her. His eyes were blank, soullessly cold and unfeeling. Aeris could see _her_ behind his eyes. She lived in them...became them and not a scrap of humanity was left behind. So, she wasn't faced with a human foe any longer. She was faced with an absolute monster in a human skin and it would be put down like the abomination it was. Her people were not violent, so she knew she wouldn't be the one to land the final blow. No, she'd give that honor to the ones the monster hurt the most. But she'd make that blow easier to hit. She'd weaken it and allow the planet the ability to defend itself...she'd give the planet the power to hurt the abomination. To kill it, even.

And her one prayer was that when all was said and done, the human soul that had been devoured by the monster would find the rest he so rightly deserved. That all the souls touched by the crisis from the sky would find in her death that one moment of true peace. She hoped they'd find tranquility...as she had.

Smiling serenely, Aeris ascended the stairs that led to the alter and prepared to pray. She stood in the center of the alter and looked up. Light engulfed the delicate figure, making her look as breakable and fragile as she was while simultaneously highlighting exactly how unbreakable her spirit was.

What strange irony was in life...and she sighed, turning around to gaze at the figure she knew was there. Motes of dust danced through the light that poured through the ceiling of the cathedral and she could just barely see the shadowed figure just outside that ring of light.

It spoke a single word, in voice that was endlessly dark and void of emotion, "Cetra."

She held her head high, and spoke, "Sephiroth."

She should have called it by its real name, but she couldn't really separate the two like she would have several years ago. They were one and the same now, symbiotic entities that fed off destruction.

He hummed appreciatively when his name fell from her lips. Why he'd take pleasure in such a fact was beyond her. Perhaps he hoped to intimidate her. It wouldn't work. She didn't fear him. Not anymore. Their gazes locked and for several minutes they did nothing but stare, the quiet gloom surrounding them like an uncomfortable blanket.

His voice cut through the silence, echoing emptily throughout the solemn cathedral. And to her ears, he seemed to be in every shadow as if he'd become darkness itself.

"What do think to accomplish, Cetra? Why do you defy us, when you know you won't succeed?"

She said nothing, becoming as stoic and unreadable as he was supposed to have been. Blinking regally, she looked away and smiled slowly, and in that smile, she held a secret. A secret she meant for him to see but not know. She would succeed.

"Do you honestly think you can stop us?"

She stood a little straighter, held her head a little bit higher. But her eyes remained downcast, refusing to look the abomination in the eye. She wouldn't give it such a privilege.

"You are weak, Cetra. A pale imitation of your ancestors, a half-breed with blood sullied, tainted with human cowardice. There is no hope...yet here you are..."

She sighed as if she were bored, picking non-existent lint from her dress. Yes, here she was and she wouldn't answer the abomination's questions. After all, when exorcising a demon, it wasn't wise to speak with it...for the words and thoughts of a demon were nothing more than lies.

"Is that why you cling to the puppet so tenaciously? He is as weak and pathetic as you are. Even with your tainted blood, you should have more respect for yourself. For your kind. You betray them, you know...by standing by his side, by their side, you betray your birthright."

And still, she said nothing. Her face was passively blank. Aggravatingly calm and serene, she only reacted to his vicious words with the slight upward tilt of her lips.

"Why do you say nothing?"

He was angry now. Infuriated by her lack of response. She should be cowering before him, spewing out mindless, idle words meant to tempt him into not doing exactly what it was he was going to do anyway.

"Don't presume to think yourself brave for your indifference. Your silence proves nothing, Cetra. Other than your utter ignorance in all matters...foolishly thinking to protect them. Why? Why protect them? These humans _deserve_ to die. They will all die and nothing you can do will stop me. Nothing. Any effort you make today will prove fruitless. Give up."

Clasping her hands together, she shook her hair out, allowing the long braid at her back to sway almost mockingly in the dim light. Another smile crossed her face, and she could feel the anger it brought.

"Foolish Cetra, do you really wish to die so badly? Would you give your life for them...when they wouldn't give theirs for you? They are selfish...greedy. They are the reason this planet is dying. You should be helping us. Instead, you hinder. You interfere. This is what the planet wants..."

Slowly, she raised her eyes and gazed at the point where she knew he stood. Her eyes locked with his and in the coldest voice possible, she answered him, "No, this is _not_ what the planet wants."

"Your humanity deludes your senses. This planet aches...screams for an end. And the end I'll give it will be glorious. Would you stand in its way? Deny its cries for peace?"

She was as bendable as a reed in the wind as she looked at him, the solid oak that looked so strong, so unbreakable...he was the oak that cracked when the wind overwhelmed it.

"You know nothing and knowing nothing...I don't expect you to understand anything."

"Brave words, Cetra. You know why I'm here. I wonder, will you be so brave with my sword through your back?" He paused and she could see his glowing eyes glinting in the half light, "You could avoid your fate...say the word. Step aside...it would be so easy..."

And as he said those tempting words, he stepped out of the darkness, hovering at the perimeter of the light...his hand outstretched. She looked at his hand. Looked up at him and smiled even more serenely than before. Her deep green eyes answered his question silently. They fairly glowed with the strength of her conviction, and the faith she held in herself and the planet. No, she would not join him but...mirroring him, she extended her hand. Giving him the same invitation he'd given her. In the halls of her ancestors, she had great power and she accessed it, shifting the wind around them. It puffed out around her, rustling her clothes silently. The light from above intensified, and from the shadows the figure staggered into the light. He was all dark intimidation, blinking owlishly as the light assaulted him, stumbling blindly until he stood right before her and her proffered hand.

"You don't have to do this, you know. There's still good in you, I believe that. There's still a human being inside...if you'd only step aside and realize the truth behind the lies...as you said...it'd be so easy."

For a moment, he hesitated. She wasn't sure why, but she could see him thinking things through. Watching as some of that cold arrogance melted away and for a moment, it was the Sephiroth she'd seen so many years before standing in front of her. How it happened, she couldn't guess, but he held the same befuddled expression on his face. He looked lost and helpless as he looked at her, searching her face for answers.

"I remember you..." He said, his voice so soft, speaking as if he was far, far away.

His head tilted and he walked forward, looking at her outstretched hand curiously.

"And I remember you."

Sudden realization hit him, and his eyes inexplicably took on a glassy sheen. He knew, she supposed. He remembered what it was they'd spoke about so long ago and he knew where he was now.

"It's the end, isn't it?" He whispered, hand hovering just above hers...ready to clasp it like a lifeline.

"Yes," She replied, trying to keep the calm she'd held up until this point.

Why, why did he show his humanity now? Why did he have to remind her after she'd almost forgotten? She felt his hand settle over hers and for a moment, she felt like crying in joy. Despite being covered by his leather glove, she could feel the warmth emanating from him and it felt so real and disturbingly human. She looked into his eyes...his human eyes and for a moment she felt her faith wavering.

"How long?"

"Six years."

"It's too late, isn't it? You said that before..."

Suddenly, she felt desperate. She wanted to say something, anything...to...she didn't even know, and without thinking, she blurted out, "No, it's never too late." He looked at her with an expression that was so mournful she could almost hear the wailing. She squeezed his hand, and whispered, "You can come back to us...You can..."

He looked at her and smiled. It was the saddest thing she'd ever seen in her life. Shaking his head, he whispered back, "No, it's too late for me."

She knew it and he knew it. He squeezed back and she looked at their intertwined hands. She could just see it, a flash of pink on his wrist. Smiling, she knew what it was. The ribbon she'd wrapped around his hand so long ago. He'd kept it. She looked up at him, ignoring the tears that streamed down her cheeks. And for once, she didn't curse that things weren't so simple.

"You kept it."

He nodded, "I wanted to thank you...for this."

She knew he didn't mean the ribbon. Moving forward and without removing her hand from his, she stood on tip toe. Her hands grasped his shoulders and tugged him down. She gently pressed her lips to his in a languid kiss that seemed to last ages.

And whether it was a kiss of death or a kiss of absolution, neither knew.

"This really is the end, isn't it?"

He didn't have an answer and neither did she. With heartbreaking slowness, his grip on her hand slackened and he let her go, slipping into the silent dark with eyes that were still human. She knew then, that this was another game played by the _It_. _It_ had allowed Sephiroth, the real Sephiroth, to surface to tempt her. She'd passed, just barely but her personal victory brought her no joy.

"Goodbye," He whispered, and she could hear the joy and the deep sorrow in his voice when he said it, as if he was happy to have one last thought that was his own.

"Goodbye," She echoed back.

The darkness took him, and his brightly glowing eyes transformed. He was the It again, the abomination that history would pen him into. She stood there, the martyr. The saint in slum girl's clothing. The mother to the world. She watched the darkness through the light and wished she could take it all back. Wished she could change things, but she wasn't a little girl any longer. Wishing would do no good, it was an empty hope and she was beyond believing in wishing any longer. Yes, she wished things were different, but that didn't change what was here now. Aeris indulged her emotions, letting only one, barely audible sob escape her lips. The sound echoed in the emptiness of the cathedral, darting through the darkness until it died and was no more than a whisper on the wind.

And when her time finally came, she barely felt it. Slipping into death effortlessly, the last sounds she heard were the cries of her friends embracing her in a warm afterglow. Later, when they looked through the little pack she carried with her, they engulfed themselves in her memory. They came upon a small picture book, with dozens of photographs and mementos inside. Photos of her and her mother at home in Midgar. Pictures of flowers. Of Rain. Of the sea and sky. Pictures of them all together. A photo of her, Tseng and Reno, just outside a theatre in Midgar. They realized then, how well and yet how little they knew her. A kind soul. A giving soul. And now that soul was lost, and none of them could understand why. None of them would ever understand.

All they would have were a handful of remembrances, static, faded pictures of a life turned to dust and all that's left...is memory.

FIN


End file.
